Breath of Life
by Lunasa Amhranai
Summary: I knew something was wrong when Rickie said we should go to Italy. I should have listened to my instincts. Marcus/OC
1. A Connection

Disclaimer: I disclaim all but my original characters, including any references to songs or movies.

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"Lu, this is good for you. You should spend some time out and about instead of cooped up in your greenhouse all the time!"

I looked up at the much taller boy who spoke to me and sneered.

I knew he meant well, but I'd never wanted to see the world like the other kids. I liked the safe comfort of my greenhouse. I liked the plants, blooming, fragrant, colorful, spilling out of pots and climbing the walls, hanging from the ceiling. It was green, warm, dark, moist, _**safe**_.

The world outside of my sanctuary was so different. It was bright outside and dangerous. You see, I was never healthy. I never claimed to be, but there were two specific _unhealthy_ things that hindered my connection to that outside place. Solar Urticaria was one. I was allergic to sunlight. It wasn't a serious, life threatening illness, just a rash every time I left the safety of a building without my parasol.

That wasn't the real problem, it just made me look like a freak in any social setting. The problem lied with my fragile bones. I had Osteogenesis Imperfecta, better known as "brittle bone syndrome". I was constantly breaking something. Constantly hurting myself and visiting doctors and looking at the faces of the people around me. They pitied me; I could see it in their eyes and it made me sick inside.

Rickie wasn't like that though. We'd known each other since we were kids in the shelter. He never once pitied me, and at the same time he looked after me. In return, I shared my food with him, and I sang him to sleep when he had nightmares. He was three years younger than me, but always big, and always old behind his eyes. We all were.

We were rejects. Unwanted by anyone, especially our parents. I'd been dropped off by a hooker as soon as I was born, already broken in places. They barely kept me alive at the hospital, and I never really recovered. Rickie came in when he was five. His folks were, well, the _violent_ sort. Somehow though, he turned out so ...good.

I looked at his annoyed expression. He knew I'd spaced out and wasn't really listening anymore. I smiled sweetly beneath my crooked nose.

"I like the greenhouse."

"We're going to Italy. I got this deal for a vacation package from this lady I met down, at the-" I stopped him with a hand over his jabbering mouth.

"She wasn't into you if she's as hot as your reaction says she was." He clenched his jaw and frowned, but he didn't say anything else. He looked away, at the hydrangea, the blue one, and my favorite. I looked at him. I looked at his shaved head, his brown eyes and dark, beautiful, chocolate skin. I looked up at his face, square and masculine, his muscular build, and the tense way he was holding himself.

'Richard Lewis Freeman the Second why do I let you have your way?' I thought, then I sighed, "Is your heart really set on this Italy thing Rickie?" I asked the question, but I already knew the answer, and, just like that, he knew I was saying yes.

I felt a little sick inside with dread at what I had just agreed to. A little more than usual. His face lit up and he grinned his toothy grin at me. He patted me very gently on the head, got up from the table and bounced out of the greenhouse like a nine year old on meth, probably to pack. I watched him go and forgot about feeling sick.

You're wondering why he needed me to go with him. That would be because I would be footing the bill for our impromptu trip to Europe. I'd been adopted when I was thirteen by a rich old widow with no children who pitied me more than anyone I'd ever met. (I'd hated her just as much.) But when she kicked the bucket she left me her estate, her millions, and my own little greenhouse sanctuary. I was almost eighteen when she croaked, and the first thing I did was go back to that hellhole shelter and grab my little brother of heart if not blood.

We'd had two years to live in our own private world when Rickie started getting restless, and this trip seemed to be the straw on a particularly unstable camel. I looked down at my hands then. They were a little deformed from so many breaks. Hell, so was the rest of me. I looked down further, onto the reflective mosaic of mirrors on the tabletop. My image was broken into lots of tiny bits. Dark red hair, thick, and in loose waves down my back. Ashen pale skin with freckles. Dull blue-gray eyes; tired, tired, tired, tired...

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Marcus was bored. Marcus was always bored. Everyday. And Marcus had seen many, many days. Hundreds of thousands. But today, of all those days, Marcus was not quite as bored as usual. In fact he was a little unsettled. You see, Marcus was facing a rather imminent crisis forced upon him by his eccentric brother (for the sake of research). Today, of all of those hundreds of thousands of days, Marcus was to chose a human female and _copulate_.

He couldn't think of it in less demeaning terms, because that was what it would be. He was to choose a woman, impregnate her, and give the child to his brothers for the sake of "a better understanding of ourselves and our possibilities". The whole concept made him... unsettled.

He was unsettled because he wouldn't go as far as to feel upset. He hadn't felt upset in many, many days. Tens of thousands. For, you see, it had been tens of thousands of days since he had felt the warmth of his beloved Didyme. But today, out of all of the tens of thousands he'd lived without Didyme, Marcus was to chose a human female and ..._copulate_.

Were he capable, he would be repulsed. But seeing as Marcus was _not _capable, and his brothers' wives were _not_ lost to them, it was decided that Marcus would bear the burden and _copulate_ with a human, for the sake of "a better understanding of ourselves and our possibilities". How ..._**unsettling**_.

Marcus looked in boredom at his brother Caius. Caius was not as pleased with the idea of creating a half-breed mutant and studying it. Caius looked like he wanted to kill something, but, then again, Caius _usually_ looked like he wanted to kill something. His short white hair fluttered as he leaned forward in his throne, anticipating the coming return of Heidi, with the days catch.

Marcus settled his bored gaze then on his other brother, Aro. Aro was in charge here, and everyone knew it subconsciously. From his long, straight black hair, his arrogant jaw, and the avarice in his filmy red eyes, Aro was the ideal tyrannical ruler. He looked hungry for power and knowledge. But, then again, Aro _usually_ looked hungry for these sorts of pursuits.

Marcus usually looked _bored_, and, from the many, many hundreds of thousands of days he'd existed, tens of thousands of which without his Didyme, perhaps he had the right idea about it.

Marcus looked around the rest of the room and spotted his brother's wives and the rest of the guard. Most of their names he'd never bothered to ask or learn. Why bother? A few he knew though, like Jane and Alec, were Marcus capable of dislike, he would dislike the twins. And Demetri, he knew Demetri. Marcus vaguely recalled that there had once been a vampire called Eleazer, that, were he capable, Marcus might have liked.

But, as it was, Marcus was not capable of like or dislike, only boredom.

He looked down at his white hands. Frail looking, but the strength beneath the surface was devastating, he knew. He imagined for a moment what those hands would do to the girl he decided to... He sighed, which caught the attention of his brothers. Marcus didn't often sigh.

"Come now Marcus my brother!" Aro spoke in whispered tones, "This discovery I dare say could cure even _**your**_ unhappy disposition. Imagine! A child! One that grows and is made from you, your talent! It is such an exciting venture we undertake here!"

Caius snorted. "Only you could be so enthusiastic about such a disgusting idea. Did no one ever tell you not to play with your food Aro?"

"Ah, but my dear Caius, the offspring of our kind and theirs is an idea that must be explored thoroughly. And what better way than to create one within our family?" Aro stopped there, and everyone turned to the sounds coming from down the hallway.

"Heidi's returned," said Marcus, as though there were not so many unsettling thoughts associated with her return.

The beautiful woman entered the room just then, speaking to a group of doomed tourists about Volterra, and the building they were entering. Their tomb. As the rest of the herd filed into the room, the fascinated faces turned confused. Marcus watched as the big one of the guard, his name was not important, closed the door behind them and leaned himself against it to look at today's meal.

Then Marcus turned his attention to the group who began to murmur and fidget nervously. Aro stood and began speaking in his normal jovial manner, whilst shooting Marcus with a telling look. _Choose one._

"Welcome to our city!" He sighed, "I hope that you..."

Marcus stopped paying attention to Aro's theatrics and looked over the crowd. They were all rather faceless to him, with the exception of one individual. She lay in the arms of a large dark skinned man looking frail and delicate and frightened, like the rest. But her eyes told a different story.

She seemed to know, somehow, that death was upon her. But he saw no fear, and, as if she felt his gaze, she looked up to meet it. He saw a tiny connection form between them at that moment. It wasn't much. She wasn't his Didyme, but it was enough to make her interesting. He walked over to Aro and touched his hand.

Marcus had made his decision.

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Thanks to my reviewer! I was going to draw this out and add more Marcus, but if I had, I would have been scrambling around a block, so I went ahead and updated with what I have to let you know I'm still writing, and appreciate the feedback! :D The story should match up with Marcus's perspective in the first chapter in my next update.


	2. A Trip and a Fall

Disclaimer: I disclaim all but my original characters, including any references to songs or movies.

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The plane ride had sucked, just as I knew it would. I'd felt air sick the entire time, the in-flight movie was some awful flick about some surfer and her love life. The flight attendant was pushy and obnoxious, and the seats were the most god awful uncomfortable things she'd ever set her fragile skeleton into, and, oh! I'd broken myself again.

"Rickie," I said at the baggage claim as he hefted both of our suitcases up off of the spinning device. I was in a wheelchair provided by the airport as soon as we had landed, "Next time you go to Italy alone."

"Come on Lucy," he whined a little, trying to lighten the mood, "It wasn't that bad! Did you see the way that stewardess was eyein' me? I prolly coulda joined the mil-"

I stopped that sentence with a glare that meant death. "If we hadn't been on this 'tour' of yours, I would have been sitting in first class, and comfortable."

"Hey! Don't be hatin'! This is our first trip on a plane at _all._ There's no reason to get picky about where we sit on the plane." He grinned at me childishly, blinding me with the white of his teeth against his dark skin. But he looked sad again.

I neglected to answer him in favor thinking back on the ride we'd had.

Rickie was lucky that I'd already prepared our passports months ago, when he'd started getting stir-crazy. I knew he'd want to do something big and extravagant. Having millions at our disposal had really gone to Rickie's head.

Thinking about that made me remember when he bought the Bow-flex... and built a swimming pool... and the huge HD TV and Blue-ray player he'd installed to watch sports on in his room. ...And to think, that was only a handful of the things he'd wasted my money on.

I smiled fondly. Even if he had no good financial sense, he kept me from getting lonely. I looked up from the window and caught the gaze of our tour guide, and the smile fell from my face. My blood ran cold every time I looked at that woman. She was beautiful, as Rickie had told me, but there was more to it than that. Her face, her body, the way she moved... it was all somehow, unnatural... otherworldly... _**terrifying**_.

The woman looked back at me with a smile that I assumed was supposed to be friendly. I shivered and looked back at the rest of the group. There were quite a few of the tour group on the plane, ranging from young to old; families, couples, and single parties.

Quite a few bore the southern twang in their speech patterns. That was certainly a pain in the ass, but nothing I wasn't used to. There was one man in particular who annoyed me more than the others. He was young, and he wore a ratty old cap and vulgar tee-shirt over an otherwise all right body. But his teeth were _crap_, and the glances he kept sneaking were _**really**_ starting to bother me.

"Rickie," I whispered to catch the attention of my otherwise _distracted_ companion, "The one in the crude shirt. Go intimidate him; he's bothering me." Rickie's eyebrow raised a bit, and he looked back, away from the scary woman he'd been admiring, and towards the man who'd been pissing me off.

"I don't know if he's staring because he's a pervert or because I look weird to him, but I don't like being stared at. And he looks trashy." We both frowned; him because I was making judgements again, and me because I felt the judgements were deserved. Nevertheless, Rickie got up and walked over to solve my problem. I had to stand up to let him out into the aisle, and he very gently sidled past me, ever careful of my fragile body.

It was an easy fix. Rickie was huge, the other guy was a bit scrawny, and apparently a coward. When Rickie got back, I moved again to let him back in, when a wave of turbulence hit. And, just like every time, it happened in slow motion. I could see Rickie reaching for me, but even then I knew he wouldn't be fast enough.

I fell and tumbled into the aisle, but not without knocking into an armrest on the way down. The loud cracking noises of my fall shocked the other passengers into silence. I looked up at Rickie's face; he was horrified and worried of course. The rest of the group started reacting a split second later.

"Is she okay-"

"What happened-"

"Clumsy much?"

"Mama! She fell-"

"Are you bleeding?" The last voice, sweet as honey, shocked me and I flinched, "No," The beautiful tour guide said, without even seeming to check, "Are you hurt?"

I stared up at that perfect face for a second, enraptured. Then I nodded yes to her, reaching my left arm back towards Rickie. Ow. _**Shit**_. Rickie gasped behind me, and I closed my eyes to bear the pain. My head started spinning and I felt like throwing up. I didn't need to see to know. My left arm had only partially moved. The bones in my forearm had snapped in the fall. But, judging by the pain I was beginning to feel elsewhere, that was not the only casualty of the day.

"Rickie, help me up so I can check for more breaks," I said steadily, but my breathing was rough. In and out, in and out. It helped somewhat to keep me from focusing on the pain, but I'm pretty sure I was going into shock. Rick gingerly wrapped his big hands around my waist and lifted me until my feet touched the ground. Then, finally, I was out of his shadow so that others could see the damage. A stewardess belatedly made it onto the scene, just in time to gasp and shriek. How helpful.

I heard more gasps and cries all around, and I even heard one passenger go for the air bag. Poor fellow. I took another deep breath to keep from shouting out my pain, then let it out in a low moan. Rickie looked like he wanted to cry, just like he did every time I fell. And the frightening woman looked on with an unreadable gaze. Rickie kept holding me up, reminding me that my ribs hurt, so I decided to get on with the inspection.

My right arm was fine. Good, writing was still an option. Left was gone, of course. I was sure a rib or two was broken, but my spine was fine, so was my head, thank God for small miracles, right? My left leg was fine all the way down, but I sensed that I probably had fractures in my other leg below the knee. The biggest problem was the unnatural position of my broken arm.

"Right leg, ribs and left arm," I said to Rickie, and he quickly put me in the seat to ease the pressure on my ribs from his grip. "My kit's in the overhead, remember?"

I turned to the crowd around us. The scary guide watched intently. "It's alright, go about your business. I have brittle bones and I'll be fine."

A few people were discouraged, but the majority continued to hover as Rickie ripped my sleeve off to start wrapping my arm. All of them whispered. Rickie had several pieces of wood I kept in the case for splints, and an ace bandage for wrapping. Man I was hurting...

"Can you see Lu," he asked quietly, "Your eyes are glazed over."

"Nn," I intoned back. Actually, he was right, my vision was fuzzy. I needed sugar. Or drugs. Or to not be broken again.

"You will need to go to the hospital when we arrive to check for internal bleeding, among other things," Said the tour-guide politely, "we'll wait for you before we get started." It was Rickie who responded

"Thank you Heidi," Ah, so that was the bitch's name. I wasn't in the mood to like the weirdo, "But we don't want to hold everybody up."

"Nonsense," she replied, laying the charm on so heavily I began to feel suspicious again, "We won't leave anybody behind." Why did I feel like it would be a very good thing to be left behind?

I still wished that they'd leave us when the ambulance arrived. Everyone stared and whispered, and in a different language no less. The EMT, or whatever they call them in Italy, started speaking to me in Italian.

"English, please," I said, and he quickly switched over to a nicely accented English as they got me into the van. I wasn't really listening to what he was saying, especially after they shot me up with painkillers, so Rickie answered as best he could.

"She's got brittle bones. Her left arm and right leg and her ribs are what's hurtin' her. Can I ride with you?" Ah. My lovely chocolate bar. I was in the mood to take a large chunk out of that wonderfully sculpted brown bicep in front of my face. ...Must have been some really trippy painkillers.

As they were closing the ambulance doors, I spotted Heidi watching us, and I shivered. They closed the doors and I passed out from the effects of shock and drugs in my system.

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Thanks to my reviewer! I was going to draw this out and add more Marcus, but if I had, I would have been scrambling around a block, so I went ahead and updated with what I have to let you know I'm still writing, and appreciate the feedback! :D The story should match up with Marcus's perspective in the first chapter in my next update.


	3. Dread

Disclaimer: I disclaim all but my original characters, including any references to songs or movies.

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"I want my greenhouse," I whined piteously to Rickie, who carried me from the hospital towards the waiting tour group.

"And I want you to quit whining and lose some weight," he grumped back at me.

"Hey!" I shouted, close to his ear, just to piss him off, "I am NOT _fat_ you loser!" Then I bit his shoulder lightly, because he was defenseless while carrying me and I wanted to get my vengeance on him. Stupid Rickie with his stupid fat jokes.

We were walking, well, _he_ was walking to a rather large bus that was meant to carry us to Volterra. _I_ was looking like a stereotypical southern bell from before the War Between the States in a sun dress with a black lace parasol to protect my skin from the UV rays. Go figure.

Volterra was supposedly some pretty ancient city with pretty old buildings and pretty quaint shops and other touristy bullshit. I wanted to go _home_. And soon, because I didn't want to miss out on the red buds, which were going to bloom soon, and would only be pretty for about a week before the leaves started showing themselves. And I had left my crocus while they were blooming!

Who knows how many other things would explode into color while I was gone? And what if I missed the wisteria? I started squirming a little in Rickie's hold, until I froze in pain after twisting my ribs the wrong way. Rickie frowned down at me.

"Maybe we should just go home? Maybe this was a bad idea." Even as he said that, he looked sad about the prospect of going home on the first day. I really could never deny him anything...

"This was an awful idea," I grumbled, "But we're here already, so let's just do this and we'll see how I feel later tonight." That made him smile, and, as he tenderly readjusted his hold on me to get into the bus, he smiled at Heidi too. I frowned hard enough for the both of us at her. Then I looked at the bus driver. He was the same as she was. Beautiful and cold and I instinctively shuddered into Rickie.

The bus was actually pretty nice. The seats looked like they reclined, and there were monitors placed every few feet from the ceilings for watching movies, as well as individual overhead lights, just like an airplane. Not that my memory of airplanes was that great, but I'd had morphine since, so it was all good. Rickie took us toward the far back of the bus, and gingerly set me into a chair by the window, before gracelessly plopping into the one beside it.

We waited for the rest of the group to get on in relative quiet. He had taken one of my hands in his, and was studying it intently.

"Do you like gray skin Rick? Or are you wondering if I'm a Martian?" He rolled his eyes at me.

"It's only a little grayish Lucy, and you are not a Martian." I stuck my tongue out at him, and grinned his toothy grin at me. "So Hershey, what are you planning on doing when we get back from this God forsaken vacation of yours?"

"Racist," he teased lovingly, but then switched gears to answer my question, "I was thinking about redoing my bathroom with a jacuzzi, and putting a hot tub out by the pool. Then I was going to redo the kitchen too. The appliances are too old for my expensive tastes."

"Your tastes are too expensive for my tastes." I shot back, but before he could respond, Heidi began to talk over the bus speakers.

"Alright everybody," She said in that beautiful voice that frightened me and intoxicated Rickie, "We're all on board! It will be a few hours until we reach Volterra, and we'll be making two pit-stops along the way. One will be..."

I started tuning her out then. Rickie would let me know if something important was said, and I was starting to drift off. My last thought were pleasant ones of all the budding and blooming flowers in my greenhouse.

When Rickie woke me up for the first pit stop, I hit him. For the next, I bit him. When he woke me up the third time, at our destination, I went to scratch him, but he caught me.

"Quit it Lu," He said with a chuckle, "We're at Volterra!" _**That**_ woke me up. I jerked up in the seat, winced, and looked blearily out the window. All I could see was blurry tan coloured walls. Rickie leaned his head over my shoulder to look out, lightly laying his chin on me. I leaned my head to touch his and sighed.

"They won't let us drive the bus into the actual city, we'll have to walk. But don't worry baby! I'll carry you!" I swatted him with a lazy hand, and then let it rest on his face. The other arm was in that stupid sling. I hated slings and casts and crutches and wheelchairs and anything that reminded me that I wasn't healthy. I was a rather unhappy person in general. I think the only things in the world that I liked were my greenhouse, painkillers, and Rickie.

Speaking of my lovely chocolate man-beast, he swooped me up into his arms yet again, and we moved to the front of the bus slowly. Everyone else had already disembarked, so we didn't get any stares until after he'd carefully maneuvered us down the steps and onto the cobblestone road he was going to have to walk while carrying me. I doubted wheelchairs would do well on cobblestone.

I looked at Heidi. Wasn't it too warm for all that getup? I readjusted my parasol; she readjusted her scarf. Hmm. Perhaps she had the same sun aversion that I did? I didn't care, I just didn't want to be near her. But, of course, Rickie, being who he was, walked right alongside her as she lead the group into the city. I looked around a bit.

The city was much nicer that the tan blob I'd originally seen through sleepy eyes. The rocks were actually many different shades and colors, ranging from gray to yellow, brown to red, and every shade in-between. The buildings were beautifully sculpted and aged to be spectacular. I wished then that I had a free hand for a camera. Many others around us were taking pictures, and I envied them.

Heidi led us on past pretty little cafés and shops. I saw a lot of people, and heard a lot of Italian being spoken. I'd never realized how beautiful that language was. It was soothing, it flowed around us like water, and pacified the alertness that came from being in close contact with that awful bitch Rickie liked so much.

She was saying things about the city as we passed. I didn't listen. Rickie hung on to every word. She started leading us faster and faster, I noticed the change of pace and a sick feeling of dread began to well up in my stomach. Rickie didn't seem to notice. We passed more people and buildings, and walked down quiet roads, and quieter alleys, until I could no longer hear the calming music of the native people anymore. Even Heidi was quiet as we approached two ornate doors into the building that seemed to be at the heart of the city. My ears were ringing in the silence, and the pounding of my heart was so loud.

Heidi looked at me, knowingly, and then, somehow, I knew too.

"I see," I said to her, "I knew I didn't like you. Rickie, we should've stayed home." He looked confused, and I laughed. I laughed so hard my ribs hurt, which didn't take much, but I kept my eyes open to watch for whatever came next. I wanted to see what was going to kill me.

But just because I'd accepted it didn't mean I was ready to die quite yet. I took a shuddering breath and started talking, quickly and quietly. We were going through a classy hallway to another set of doors, and I didn't know what lay behind them.

"Rickie, you know, I love you," he still looked flabbergasted, "I know I never say it, but you are my family, and I have never regretted anything." And it was true. I didn't regret, and now that I'd spoken my peace, I thought myself ready to die without any regrets at all. Funny how life makes a joke out of every decision you make.

"I love you to Lucy, you know that. Are you feelin' alright?" Then he started to get a little panicky He felt my forehead with his as we walked through a new hall now, this one was older than the last. We were not the first to walk this path.

"I'm not sick Rickie. I think I'm kind of happy now." His panicking increased.

"Lu, don't be like this, you're scaring me," he demanded, and I saw that same scared little boy he had been when we first met in that orphanage in Atlanta.

"Oh, Rick," I whispered, and I lay my head against his strong shoulder, "You got so big. When did that happen? Don't worry about me. I'll be alright, I'm just waxing nostalgic. Must be the Romance of Italy getting to me." He seemed pacified, and, with perfect timing, because, just then, the doors opened into a large stone chamber with a slanted floor leading to a drain in the middle, and three large, throne-like chairs on the side opposite us.

Sitting in those chairs were three men, only, I couldn't call them that. That was to mild a term for these creatures. They were monsters, I knew it. On a second glance, I could see the whole room full of beautiful monsters. Then, the one in the middle throne began to speak in lilting, wispy tones.

"Welcome to our city!" He sighed, "I hope that you have had a good trip to Italy and that our Heidi has treated you well..." He continued to speak, but I was distracted by an impulse. As though I were being directed by some unseen force, I looked up and saw. His eyes... they were red, but more than that, they were fixated on me in a way that I somehow understood, but also did not. He kept my gaze as he floated gracefully to join the one who was speaking still, and he touched that monster's hand. Then his gaze fell, and I felt some odd sense of loss.

"Ah! Forgive my rude behavior!" Said the speaker, and he walked over to Rickie and me. "Let me lead you to the lobby! We must show special care to the injured!" He placed a hand on Rickie's bare shoulder and lead us quickly down the passage, through a door I hadn't noticed before, and into the aforementioned lobby, where a decidedly not monstrous woman waved and smiled. But we weren't there for long, we were ushered into an elevator next, and all before the loquacious man had uttered a single syllable, and, in fact, he seemed to be concentrating on something. But the silence didn't last long once we'd gotten on the elevator and started going down.

"What's going on?" Asked Rickie. He was starting to feel scared. Took him long enough.

"Rickie," We both said it at the same time, and I stared at the man with wide eyes. So did Rickie.

"Mind reader?" I asked, and the man smiled. I took the opportunity to study him, and he took my good hand in his. It was cold, frozen, and I shuddered.

"You are quite sharp Lucy. Lucille Baker, such a pretty name. We have a proposition for you." He said in that same breezy way, "It is of great... scientific value to my brethren and myself." Just then, the doors opened into a much less cheery hallway, and he dragged us into a small chamber, then quickly shut the door, locking it on his way out.

"What the hell? Way to finish a subject before leaving. Ass." I complained. Rickie set me down on a cot on the other side of the room. He was terrified, I could tell. He paced the room a bit, then looked at me. He repeated this process several times before sitting down beside me.

"Lu... Are we gonna die?" He asked quietly. Then we started to hear them. They were muted by the space and wall separating us, but the screams of the rest of the group were unmistakable.

"Yes we are."

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Longest chapter as of yet! I've set their first meeting, now to get to the fun stuff! Thanks to my reviewer for keeping up so far! Read and review!


	4. Second Impression

Disclaimer: I disclaim all but my original characters, including any references to songs or movies.

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Rickie looked so terrified that I sought his shaking hands with mine. When he started to cry in jerking sobs, I pulled his whole body close to me and sang to him. I sang his favorite lullaby's from our time at the orphanage. One of which was from an Opera called Hansel und Gretel by Engelbert Humperdinck. Great name, I know, but the song was beautiful and soothing. It had been translated from German to English by someone, I didn't care who, and the lyrics were sweet nothings about angels watching over sleeping children.

I hummed softly, right by his ear. He was only what, seventeen this year? He _was_ still a child... And he'd always been a bit of a crybaby. Something about a good contrast between physical and emotional strength.

"You know what?" I prompted him, "I think it would be nice to have some new appliances in the kitchen. What all are you going to replace, Cocoa-butter?" He looked up at me through his tears, finally stopping the sobbing that soaked through my shirt.

"Th'stove," he choked a bit, but, as if the words calmed him, he began to speak more smoothly "An' the oven first... They look as old as the whole house. The fridge, I want one with a freezer drawer at the bottom, an' a place to pour water out from the door that puts out specific measurements." He was distracting himself marvelously, so I kept the charade.

"I didn't know that they could do that Rickie, when did you find all this out? Do you actually spend any time with your tutors studying school subjects at all?" I smiled painfully down at him. No need to mention that the drugs were wearing off. It would keep me sharp for... I didn't know what for.

"You know," and I kept talking, just to kill time until we were killed ourselves. Ha. I crack me up.

I was doing a marvelous job of distracting the both of us too. But I had questions I needed answered. Why were we here? How did they massacre the rest of the group? I needed to know these things before I made any rational decisions about what I could do to at least try to protect us. Who knew why they decided to separate us first. Experiments?

"I think that we should put in new hardwood floors in the foyer. How about a new Persian rug in the den? You've been saying you wanted a dog too... I shouldn't keep you from having one just because I'm fragile," I kept babbling, though my mind was busy with more relevant thoughts, "If you want one, we can find ways to protect my bones from a careless pet. Just keep it away from the greenhouse and we'll be fine! What kind of dog do you want? Not a small one though, I prefer big dogs."

He was starting to show signs of denial of our situation. Good. He started talking about dogs then. What breeds were good, and how to care and train those breeds. I didn't bother to listen. I really should have gotten him one. There were so many things I could have gotten him.

_**Ah**_. So there was that regret I hadn't been feeling, creeping up like kudzu. Strangling me. I took a deep breath, and Rickie fell silent, laying his head on my chest, against the beat of my heart. It was still steady, my breaths were even, and I started humming again. More for me than Rickie now. He needed me to be stronger.

I knew I could never get out of here, and I knew I couldn't get Rickie out either, not by busting out of this cell and making a break for it. Somehow I knew they'd catch him. Quickly. When the screaming had started upstairs, there had been no gunshots, but the accompaniment of lots and lots of snarling, growling noises.

Rickie couldn't run, no... but if they wanted something from us... If I could negotiate... Maybe... just maybe... I could save him.

* * *

Marcus finished his meal quickly and efficiently, avoiding any spatter on his clothing. A man in his twenties whose blood tasted just like any other man, or woman for that matter. He didn't care for feeding on children. There was nothing pleasing about it, just like there wasn't much of a thrill to hunt mice in a cage.

Not that Marcus was one for thrills in the first place, but... perhaps it had been too long since he'd seen a human who actually believed himself capable of escaping. That was where the fun was supposed to be, right? But Marcus shed the thought from his mind as he did most thoughts, and left to find his brother, who'd led the woman away.

Such a curious thing, that woman. She'd looked so strong, and yet, terribly fragile. A contradiction... dark, red hair, and silvery blue eyes. They were an attractive combination, but there was something odd about the shade of her skin, and the slight deformation of her nose and fingers. ...Perhaps, then, she was not attractive except that she was interesting?

It didn't matter either way to Marcus. He simply wanted his obligation to be complete, without actually having to go through with the deed. Marcus spotted Aro then, coming out of the elevator in the lobby.

"Ah! Marcus, my brother! You have definitely chosen a unique specimen for our work! The man with her may become a problem, however. They are extremely close, the two of them." and Aro frowned. "Separating their bond may be difficult for Chelsea." Marcus wondered which one was Chelsea briefly, before once again deciding he didn't care.

"But," continued Aro jovially, "The woman is a frail human whose bones shatter at the slightest pressure," he stopped smiling then, "It will be a challenge to stop yourself from killing her."

Marcus stared at his brother blankly, watching the slightest change in his bright red eyes when he lost patience and reached for Marcus's hand. His brain felt a tiny tickle. Most people wouldn't notice their mind being read, but, after thousands years of sharing his thoughts with Aro, Marcus could feel it in his head. Perhaps he was simply going senile... If vampires could go senile, that is.

Aro made a face when he was through. "Perhaps I was too hasty in thinking that she would be of enough interest to you to continue this experiment," He seemed nonchalant, but kept his hand on Marcus's. "Maybe we should send them both with the next group and look for a new human woman."

Marcus felt a small wave of... something... he wasn't sure what, but it was what Aro had been looking for, and he smiled again. "Then again, why don't you go introduce yourself to her, and we'll save that decision for later?"

He held Marcus's hand a bit longer, feeling the confusion that was beginning to overwhelm the parts of Marcus's mind that continued to function after Didyme died. Marcus was one of the oddest vampires that Aro had ever met. He simply stopped working after she had...Died. He had been an odd vampire beforehand as well. _Passionate_. Rather like Carlisle in some ways, and that had always worried Aro slightly... Enough that, even though he encouraged this experiment, he was very wary of the way Marcus reacted to it. He had to be.

Aro let go of Marcus's hand, and Marcus felt the tickling feeling go away, and turned soundlessly to do the bidding of his brother. Aro was behaving in a particularly suspicious manner, and it was leaving him even more unsettled. He walked to the elevator and stepped inside. The doors closed and Marcus sighed quietly. He watched the numbers change on the monitor as he moved below the surface of the city, into the dungeons of the castle where his victim awaited him.

* * *

We didn't have long to wait in that little cell before there was the sound of the door rattling. Rickie froze in my arms and took in a trembling breath. I tightened my grip on him, so he wouldn't try to protect me from whatever came through to meet us. When the door finally opened, I caught a pair of red eyes, glazed with a milky film, but bright and eerie at the same time. I felt a hundred emotions sweep through me in that one moment. But they subsided to a faint lull and clung to my conscious mind, as if something bound me to him. It wasn't fear, not even for my Rickie. Something about him seemed so soft to me...

"Hello," I started, not sure what I should say to him, "I was wondering if you would explain what it is you want with us...?" He kept looking at me... studying me. So I looked back, pressing Rickie against me to keep him out of whatever was going on between this monster and me.

He had long, dark hair, and he was tall, very tall, a little taller than Rickie with broad shoulders. I couldn't make anything else out because of the cloak he wore, but he looked that were he human, and not a monster, he would be perfectly capable of overpowering us. His face was beautiful, just like the rest of them, and his features were aristocratic. He seemed like a dark and terrible king, alluring and cold.

My heart started picking up pace, so I closed my eyes in order to calm it. When I opened them, his face was only a foot away. In just a moment, he'd closed the distance, and bent down to look closer at me. He took my face in his hands like he was searching for something. His fingers felt like they were bruising me, and so _**cold**_! My breathing turned completely ragged, which hurt _like __**hell**_ for my ribs, and Rickie pulled away from me. I pushed him to the side so that the monster could finish his inspection.

Rickie yelped when he saw how close it had gotten to me, and I spared him a glance. I certainly didn't want him involved in this... whatever it was.

"Don't move Rickie," I commanded and he obeyed, but his eyes were terrified. He whimpered quietly as he watched us, and I turned back to face the man again. He turned my head to one side, and brought his nose close to my neck. I calmed my breathing again while he took a long drag of air, and his fingers tightened there grip. When the tip of his cold nose touched the side of my neck, all of my efforts at calming myself went to hell. His face moved until I could feel his cold lips right behind my ear, and he took another breath, this time through my hair. My heart rate must have been going through the roof, but my mind cleared as I accustomed myself to his nearness.

He smelled very good. Sweet and musky and _intoxicating_. It was an otherworldly scent that spun through my brain, replacing the panic with a sort of haze. I felt my heart begin to slow, and my eyelids fell halfway shut.

"Lu?" Whispered Rickie tentatively. The man backed up away from me, but squatted down at my level. Then he looked at Rickie, and his eyes weren't speculative at all. They were bored. I brought my good hand up to his face, and tried to take back his attention. As I had suspected, his face was cold and smooth. He let me turn his head until he was facing me again.

"What do you want with us," I repeated, this time firmly. If he wasn't interested in Rickie, then he might be willing to let him free.

"I am Marcus," he said, very quietly, in an attractive Italian accent. His voice was as beautiful as the rest of him. Big Surprise. "You are here to serve as a ...vessel." The monster seemed uncertain of his words, and Rickie was oddly silent. No doubt he was paralyzed with fear.

"A vessel for what?" I prompted impatiently. I wanted to negotiate for Rickie's release.

Marcus was quiet for a moment, then he stood, and I felt something stretch away from me in his absence. How odd. Wasn't I cold when he touched me with his freezing hands? But I felt colder when he pulled away from me. But then his eyes were boring into mine with an intensity that honest to goodness frightened me. "For a child."

Heya peoples! I wanted to make this longer, but I figured I'd let this piece out sooner instead. I just got increasingly busy with finals looming nearer. I'm also having some difficulties with some whacko housing changes at my school next year.

* * *

I appreciate the support of my reviewers! I have three people reading now? That's pretty awesome for me! :D I haven't even gotten my first flame yet. Which, I'm actually looking forward to, so if you feel like flaming, just know that I will laugh my ass off as I read it. However, if anybody has legitimate criticisms, or suggestions for improvements, or if you catch a stupid mistake I've overlooked, I'll take you seriously. .O Just the other day I realized that I'd forgotten my disclaimers, and I had to add them to all of the chapters.

Ah! I really want to keep going with the next chapter, but if I don't study for theory, I will _**BOMB**_ the final, and that's a no-no. Ciao!


	5. What?

Disclaimer: I disclaim all but my original characters, including any references to songs or movies.

* * *

My mind was blank for five whole seconds until it hit me like a walrus in a shopping cart.

What? _What? __**What?**_ What the ever-living-almighty-Jesus-frickin' _**hell**_?

"You want me to be your _**BABY MAMA**_? Are you RETARDED?" My face was bright red and all thoughts that could have been attributed to fear had vanished in a heartbeat. "What the hell! Do you have any idea what you're saying? Do you have any idea how easily I _break_? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

"Lucy!" Rickie called. I could barely hear him passed the blood rushing through my ears. He wrapped me in his big arms to keep me from hurting myself. I stared at the monster who was pissing me off. My ribs were protesting, but I ignored them.

The monster, Marcus, looked at me without anger or guilt, only interest. "Lucy?" He spoke softly, "Your name is Lucy?" I calmed down a bit. His eyes and voice and scent that clung to my nose were really quite tantalizing. I couldn't focus well on my anger anymore.

"Lucille Ann Baker," I gritted between my teeth, "You may refer to me as Miss Baker. And you can tell that monster who led me down here not to be so friendly with me in the future." My voice got stronger as I kept going. "And I want to know my options. If you want me to do something for you, you have to give me something in return!"

Marcus _almost_ seemed amused by the time I'd finished my rant, but maybe I was imagining things. That face didn't looked like it actually moved very much, even to talk. Rickie pulled me closer, because Marcus had taken a small step in our direction.

"Tu sei come la luce del sole. Come brillante." He spoke softly, and reached to touch my face again, with both hands. His cold fingers pulled my hair around my face, and he bent to kiss a few strands trapped in his grip.

Now, if anyone starts blaming me for getting a little flustered, I will _hunt you down and __**kill**_ _you_. When was the last time a sexy man spoke to you in Italian? Seriously! Rickie tensed behind me, and, to be completely honest, he was holding me up because my legs were non-functioning. My face must have been bright red, because Marcus raised an eyebrow at me. His eyes _almost_ seemed teasing when he looked at me, though he didn't appear to me to be the type to tease.

"Your heart beats so quickly Luce, One would think that you are not so averse to the idea as you claim?" Then, before I could make a comeback, or even realize what he'd said at all, he swept to the door and out of our prison cell to God knew where.

"...Lu?"

"Shut up."

I couldn't even think well enough for Rickie to be questioning me. But I _needed_ to be able to think! How was I going to anything for us if all my mind could do was run circles around an image of that _thing's_ face? I finally looked up at Rickie, and it was a good thing I did too. He looked scared and confused and angry all at the same time, and it was enough to distract me from Marcus. I calmed my breathing and heart for a few minutes. Rickie watched me nervously without speaking.

I used the time to take in our surroundings more. I was stone, of course, and it was relatively dim; the light all came from lanterns hanging against the walls. I was seated on a cot against the wall opposite the door, which seemed to be made of some sort of rusty old metal that might have been weak to the proper force. But I'd already decided that forcing our way out wouldn't work, so really my entire inspection served little purpose, but, by the time I was through, I was prepared to talk with a little more sense. It wasn't like it really took any time for me to make my decision. It was effortless, like breathing, but sometimes breathing hurts.

"Rickie, I think I might be able to get you out of this mess, just be patient and calm," I said to him in a quiet voice.

"Get me outta here? W-What about you Lu?" Rickie whispered in a panic, "You... you can't mean for me to leave ya' behind?" His eyes grew very, very wide and I hated myself for what I was going to say next.

"I'm going to stay and have a monster baby with that demon." It only took a split second for him to explode.

"NO! No! No! No! You are NOT! Don't do this Lucy! You can't do this! NO!" He was shouting, and I knew they could hear us, or, at least him. He grabbed my shoulders in his big hands and knelt in front of me, "They'll kill you! He'll kill you! Lucy, don't leave me!" He was shaking and sobbing now, and he sunk down onto the floor until his head was in my lap.

"Rickie, it's possible for me to have sex without breaking into pieces," I said sarcastically, "I'm not _that_ fragile, and who knows, maybe they've heard of artificial insemination?" Rickie looked at me angrily, and then he was shouting again.

"What! D'you think they're gonna come after you with a turkey baster or somethin'?" I slapped him, and it hurt my hand.

"Ew! I did _not_ need to hear that Rickie! What is wrong with you? Jesus! Either way, it's fine! I won't be able to leave, because they want me for something, and they _do_ have the upper hand here... There isn't anything I can give them except what they want. They don't seem to need money at all, and that's all I would have to bargain with. If they really want my uterus, they can have it as long as you go home safe."

"No!" he said again, and wrapped his arms around me, "I can protect you! Don't give in to them!" He looked so determined and brave in that moment that I wanted to let him try. But I knew better. These things weren't human, and my Rickie was. Maybe he was stronger than me, but I knew without a doubt that they would kill him in a heartbeat. My gut was telling me so, and I trusted that feeling.

"Don't be stupid Cocoa-Butter. There's nothing you can do to overcome them. There's lots of them, and we're in their territory. You wouldn't stand a chance."

"You keep sayin' that like they're animals or somethin'..." He said more quietly, and he clutched me like a child again, trying to deny the truth.

"They aren't human Rickie. Don't try to lie to yourself," I replied. He whimpered and buried his face in my chest again.

"I feel so damn helpless... What do I do Lu?"

"You wait for me to get you out of here." He didn't answer me, but nodded against my aching ribs quietly, because he knew what that meant. I patted his back with my free hand and leaned against the cold, stone wall behind me. We were both quiet for a while, and I went to my happy place for a while.

I was in my greenhouse, sitting on the wrought iron bench beneath my favorite willow. To the left of me was an artificial pond dug into the ground, complete with fountain, water lilies, and koi fish. To my right was an intricate iron trellis. Twined around the trellis was jasmine and honeysuckle with a thick, sweet scent that itched my nose a bit.

On either side of me in pots, as well as buried in the ground, were all sorts of plants blooming and flourishing. Butterfly bushes and azaleas, blueberry and blackberry bushes, hibiscus and hydrangea, petunias and pansies, gardenias and the roses... veteran's honor red roses with the perfect blooms. White roses, yellow roses, pink roses, and lilies, irises, gladiolus's, daffodils; of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Thick green foliage; soft, dark soil, and pretty little stepping stones that wound around red buds, willows, peach trees, cherry trees, pears, and crepe myrtles and little bushes and plants in a shady path towards the entrance.

Butterflies were everywhere, fluttering around, and birds too, picking at berries and making sweet little nests in the trees. I never knew how they got in or out, but I had never cared. Filtered light shone through the filmy glass that rose high above it all, arching into the sky several meters above the tallest tree. There was a hummingbird feeder on a stand beside the trellis, and a feeder with birdseed by the pond.

Of course, not everything would be blooming at the same time, but it was my happy place, my rules! I dragged myself back to reality with a sigh. All that was left to do now was wait for the monster to come back. I rubbed Rickie's back again, pressing the knots in his muscles, and he wrapped his big arms tight around me, pulling me forward to the edge of the cot. I had to wrap my one good leg around his torso so that he could get closer. He rubbed his face on my shirt, and somehow I knew it was covered on snot.

"Come stop you're crying, it will be alright. Just take my hand, hold it tight," I sang to him, and he started to chuckle sadly. He lifted his head up to look at me.

"Tarzan? Seriously?" I smiled down at him. Yup, snotty.

"Disney is forever dummy," I replied coarsely, "And don't you forget that!" He laughed now, shaking us both, and rattling my broken bones. Ow.

"Hakuna Matata, right?" He said bitterly, and the wave of anger and sorrow I felt almost overtook me. My voice trembled when I answered.

"Yeah Rick, whatever you say."

* * *

The woman was indeed interesting. Perhaps she even qualified as entertaining... Marcus frowned. Since when did he ever find anything entertaining? He watched the monitor again as he rode the elevator up to floor level, where he knew his brother to be waiting for him. Her expressions when he'd revealed his intentions had been delightful. How _angry_ she had become. Sure, one would suppose anger would be a natural emotion under the circumstances, but shouldn't she be just a little bit frightened?

Marcus lifted his hands up to inspect them. They still felt heated by the warmth of her skin. And she had been very warm, heated by her reaction to him, his Luce. Her scent was... bearable in the sense that he wasn't dying to kill her. She smelled like all sorts of flowers, gardenia, jasmine, and honeysuckle especially. He hadn't lived for so many years to not have any self control at all. He just needed to grow accustomed to her, it wouldn't be a terrible challenge. He wouldn't suffer unnecessarily.

Not the way that child of Carlisle had suffered... La tua cantante... What if she had been? The thought pained him, and Marcus gasped in surprise. Ah! It must be because of that bond! And such an intriguing bond it was turning out to be. It had started so small, a tiny strand of color, a wisp of smoky scent, light and delicate, like she was. But as the had met again... when he touched her for the first time, how it had flared! Many bright, swirling colors, and it smelled like her, and a little like him. That was not completely uncommon with bonds between couples, but for it to spring up so quickly, that was another matter entirely.

It was almost frightening, the way it happened, and he had always thought that Didyme... that nobody would ever make him feel like that. Not again. It wasn't quite the same, but, with the way it grew so unexpectedly, what if he _did_ fall in love with her? Could he bear the same pain when she died?

And there was such a high chance of that. She was so fragile, and the experiment was so very dangerous. Would he let another woman fall through his fingers like that? What would Aro do when he knew?

Marcus swallowed back and emotion that he didn't care to name. They came to him now, emotions, creeping through his indifferent heart like like a fog. His head felt clogged and the parts of his mind that he never used seemed to be waking up. What would Aro do? He would want to nip that emotion in the bud and separate them before it became too strong Before Marcus got too …attached. Perhaps he would decide to make one of the guard the father. Marcus snarled out loud at the thought. But what could he do? How could he possibly protect her from his brother? Marcus felt cold chills take away the warmth that Lucy had left in him.

It was then that the elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened. Thankfully, the lobby was empty. Aro had given him more time than Marcus thought he would. The doors shut after a while, and Marcus stood there, contemplating. Perhaps he should go back to her, and find a solution there? Whatever he did, it would have to be quick. He couldn't afford Aro reading his mind, seeing his confusion.

Marcus pressed the button for the basement floor again, and watched the numbers on the monitor. He would find a solution. He had to.

* * *

Hey guys! I uploaded this as soon as possible, so there may be some mistakes. If you find 'em, let me know, and I'll proofread again when I have a few minutes. I wanted to move it along further in this chapter, but there were so many things I had to resolve first. :/ I still have some issues to resolve between the characters before I can really take this where I'm going with it. Thanks for support! I hope to have the next chapter up soon!


	6. Hopeless

Disclaimer: I disclaim all but my original characters, including any references to songs or movies.

* * *

Rosalie sighed from underneath the jeep, and Emmett crouched down to see. They had just gotten back from a visit to see the main branch of the family, and were on a new trip to visit the southeast. It wouldn't be terribly easy, but it was a place they hadn't been very much, and they wanted a little time away from the crowded house of the Cullens. They had invited Jasper and Alice, but new that Jasper wasn't too keen to visit the part of the country that had made him so miserable, and Alice wouldn't go without him.

Rosalie especially wanted to get away from a certain smelly pest. But as much as Rosalie hated those stupid dogs in Forks, she was seriously missing Reneesme. She looked to the side of her, where Emmett had scooted under the car to stare at her. He smiled a big goofy grin, and she scowled back at him.

"Do you miss those mutts so much, Rose?" She hissed and swatted him, and he lifted the jeep up to get out from under it. She followed him up for a better shot, while he laughed and showed off those pretty little dimples she admired so much, not that they would spare him her wrath. She pounced him, and quickly found herself in his arms, being passionately kissed.

"Mmn..." She sighed, then smiled against his lips, "I miss my niece, you big oaf, and I don't like the fact that she's grown up so much. Although, I don't mind so much how pesky Edward is making himself for the both her _and _that dog of hers."

Emmett laughed loudly, and it bounced around the empty rest station they were stopped at, while his movements jostled her on his chest. "That poor girl just wants to marry her doggie, and Edward still says he has to wait until she finishes college! Bella's just indulging him, too. Everybody spoiled Nessie so much as a baby that she's used to getting what she wants, but Edward's being so stubborn about this!"

Rosalie smiled at her beloved, then looked back at the jeep she'd been fixing.

"We really should have taken a different car, or gone without. It's not like we're going to be doing a lot of interaction with the general populace, and the jeep is a bit big for our needs. It's also wasn't really made to be driven on highways."

"Aw, but Rose, I wanted to go four-wheeling across the country in it. You were the one who wanted to stick to the highways." He grinned widely up at her, and she pulled her fingers up to his head and buried them in his curly hair. Then she used her grip to pull his lips to hers again, shifting her legs to straddle his waist over the pavement. He kissed her so long, that, if she breathed, she would have suffocated, but, seeing as she did _not_ breath, her continued to kiss her for minutes. Hours maybe? She never knew anything but what he made her feel when they were alone together, and it had really been too long since they'd had a weekend away from the Cullen household.

She felt his hands travel down from her shoulders to her hips, and suddenly they were flipped, and he was hovering over her. She broke away from his mouth and took a large gasp of air. Looking past his beautiful face, she watched another car pull into the dim rest area, and saw a small family pile out of a sedan.

"Get up Emmett," She sighed, "They probably wouldn't appreciate a show." He growled, but did as she'd bid him, rolling to the balls of his feet, and pulling her upright with him. They'd stopped here in the first place because it sounded like the jeep was having a little trouble, more than likely with the speed they'd been driving it. It wasn't a sports car, which was another reason she hadn't really wanted to take it on their trip. The woman, obviously mother of a rather large (five) group of children gave them an odd look as she passed. More than likely she was wondering why they'd been necking on the pavement.

Rosalie lifted an eyebrow at the nosy woman in a fashion she was sure Edward would call arrogant, Anyone else would too. So what if she was arrogant? She was beautiful and intelligent and older than that woman, and probably her mother too. If she wanted to have full blown sex in a parking lot, that too would be none of her business. Emmett laughed, and waved at the group, who proceeded to look absolutely petrified. The father got out of the car then, and tried to stare Emmett down.

Emmett just grinned, and the poor man was quaking in his boots. The family hurried back into their car and pulled out hurriedly. Rosalie supposed they were on their way to the next station several miles down the highway. With a smirk, Emmett reached his hands back around her hips, and she glared at him in return.

"I didn't see anything too terribly wrong with the jeep," She said coldly. How could he still be in the mood after seeing that family go by? "We should get it back to the house so that I can take a closer look, though."

Emmett's face fell. She understood. Since Reneesme had been born, they hadn't taken another long honeymoon, and they were long overdue. They had been instead taking short week-long vacations, but, even then, Nessie grew so much in their absence, and it really hurt Rosalie. Especially now. The girl was almost seven, which meant she was also almost an adult. Edward and Bella had put off Bella's first college venture at Dartmouth for the sake of watching her grow up, and now it was almost time to go back.

Rosalie sighed and she felt Emmett wrap his arms around her, gentle now, rather than amorous. How much she would give if only she could have been a mother, just like little Bella. Yes, little Bella, who thought she was a lion, and turned out to be of more help than they could have asked for.

But if only Rosalie could have the same joy as Bella. A child that was hers and was Emmett's. It would be perfect too, boy or girl, maybe with his dimples and curls. She slid her own arms around her husband and they stood there while she dreamed of things that would never be, and he hoped that she could be happy without.

* * *

"Nessie," whined Jacob, "We should just elope. Then we wouldn't have to get your dad's permission for anything." Reneesme whipped around to face her darling, bronze curls bouncing, and sent at him a burst of anger. The lovely thing about it all is that she no longer had to touch him to do it, though, she could tell that more than just he was upset about that. Everybody like touching her. She was their baby, their joy, their sheltered little girl. They didn't want her to grow up and were obviously stalling for time.

But all of the frustrating delays and obstacles in the world wouldn't stop her from getting the wedding she wanted. She wanted one like her Mama's, with perfect bows and ribbons and flowers. She wanted a perfect cake and beautiful music with all of her family, all of Jacob's pack, and all of the friends she'd made as a tiny toddler when the Volturi had come for her.

But most of all, she wanted her Daddy to walk her down the aisle. However, her father knew that very well, which was precisely why he could get away with prolonging her marriage to Jacob by requiring her to go to college first despite the fact that her mother hadn't been yet. (She'd used that argument before.) But of course, not everyone goes to college, she had said.

He'd gone onto a long lecture about something related to her intelligence and financial support and opportunities others didn't have and and blahdy blah blah. It was bullshit, but she let him win in order to get what she wanted in the end. Jacob had just better get used to waiting a little longer.

It was a little late this year to start applying to colleges, but she could start next year. The problem with that, was that her father wanted her to go to Dartmouth with him and her Mom. She couldn't go to college with her parents! Nessie huffed and allowed Jacob to catch up to where she had wandered in her anger. She sent him a mental pulse of everything she'd been thinking about, and he staggered a bit at the sheer amount of information.

"Oh, Nessie," he said quietly, "I hadn't realized that you felt that way about it. Why didn't you tell me? I was just getting so impatient and everything without even thinking about it. I'm sorry honey."

"I didn't want to try to force you to do things the way I wanted, and I was hoping to persuade Daddy to quit stalling us before we got this frustrated with the whole thing." Reneesme's clear, rich voice filled the space around them in the little glen they'd come upon while walking. She didn't speak often. She had no need, but, when she did talk, people around her listened intently.

"It's okay to wait if you want all that frilly crap and all those people," he said, and then, realizing his mistake, he tried to smooth it over, "I mean, I'll get the whole pack to come, and wear whatever you and Alice want me to wear, and I'll even put up with those murdering friends of your family, and uh..."

She laughed brightly at him. He was terribly awkward with words sometimes, but she loved that part of him. He had sat down on a fallen tree, and she jumped to claim her seat in his lap. It wasn't as big as it had been even a year ago, but it was still big enough, and she wouldn't be growing at all soon. She sighed happily, and grabbed his big, warm arms, pulling them around herself like a big, warm blanket. It wasn't that she was cold. She didn't really get cold, but his heat was just so comfortable!

Jacob leaned his head forward to kiss the top of hers, and then let his cheek rest there, watching the path they'd just taken. He was sure someone would come to interrupt them soon. They were all so clingy when it came to his Nessie. The two of them could hardly get a moment alone now that it really mattered to them to be alone. Right on the mark, his nose started itching, and Bella burst from the brush, landing at his feet gracefully.

She was really very graceful, too, and she never let him forget it now that she wasn't a clumsy little human. He waited for her to start yelling at him for sneaking off with Nessie, but she didn't. She looked at Nessie instead.

"Reneesme," she said, "Can't you at least try to see this our way? We wouldn't even have to have the same classes. You could go during the day while your father and I take night classes. We've only had you a little more than six years. Most children stay with their parents until they're close to twenty. We aren't being unreasonable by asking you to stay with us for another four years."

"But," Nessie said angrily, "I don't understand why it matters so much! We'll have eternity to be together, and I want to marry Jacob _now_."

Jacob smiled at his spoiled love. But Bella looked like her temper was about to explode.

"Exactly," She snapped back, "You'll have eternity to be with Jacob, but once you marry him, you won't be ours anymore. You'll be his, and I'll be like any other woman whose children have grown up and left her. Only I'm not even twenty-six yet. It isn't like we're barring you from seeing him while we go. Jacob's free to come and go as he pleases; we have a house down there big enough for the whole family. You know." She continued, getting louder as she went, "We could be telling you to wait until I'm _old_ enough for my only daughter to get married, but we aren't! If you want us to see you as an adult and let you marry that big lump of brown than maybe you should stop acting like a spoiled child when you don't get your way!"

With that, Bella spun on her heel and left the way she came, and Nessie snarled after her, but stayed where she was. Bella's temper had always been a bit hot, but, after getting her fangs, it had gotten explosive. Jacob patted Nessie's hand to see if she was alright, and she sent a thought through her hands. She was guilty for upsetting her mother, but not guilty enough to apologize, and not sad or angry like he had thought she'd be.

"She says that like everything is going to change so drastically when we finally get hitched," she grumbled, "I just don't think she's right about that. Even if we get a house of our own, we'll be within a few minutes walk from both the main house and Mom's cottage, right?" Jacob rubbed Nessie's shoulder with his big hand and turned her upper body to face him.

"It isn't quite so simple," he answered quietly, "You remember I've been yours for as long as you've been alive. And you've been mine for longer than she's had you by a couple of days. She's known that she would have to give you up for a very long time, and you know they both go in your room at night just to watch you sleep, even now..." Nessie didn't answer, she was subdued, but he didn't sense that he'd really made her see any other opinion than her own. She was as stubborn as both of her parents put together. He sighed and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"We should get back," he said when she stayed silent, "I'm sure your aunt Rose has found a reason to come back from her vacation to see you." Nessie finally smiled, hopped up, and took his hand as they walked slowly back to the house.

* * *

Alice looked up at the ceiling of the Cullen house. She was having some really iffy visions as of late, and they were bothering her. She new it had something to do with the Volturi, but she couldn't understand what. She kept seeing a vision of a human with dark reddish-brown hair and steel gray eyes.

She looked sick, and in pain, and Alice couldn't figure out what it meant for them, as she didn't see her having anything to do with the Cullen's themselves. Alice sighed, and tried to put it from her mind. Jasper looked over from his seat beside her and raised an eyebrow. She looked at his heavily scarred face, and laid her hand over his own, which was also covered in the same silvery scars.

They were sitting on the fluffy white couch in the Cullen's large living room, while Carlisle and Esme were in the kitchen, dancing to soft music that Edward was playing on the piano. Of course, they should have been doing something else, but since they were all pretending to have moved out of Forks, they couldn't very well go out to town, could they?

Carlisle was having a rather difficult time adjusting to the lack of work. Everybody knew he loved working at hospitals, saving human lives, but even that was put on hold for the sake of watching Nessie grow up. And there was no way he could continue working as a doctor in Forks with how long they'd been there, and how young he still looked.

The reason Nessie and Bella stayed was for Charlie, and everyone else stayed until Nessie would stop growing. Nobody wanted to miss that. But, with her almost grown, Alice could feel the tension in the air. She sighed again, and Jasper's hand twisted to hold hers and squeezed gently. Then she got another vision of that woman in her mind. She was in an old, dungeon-like cell. There was someone else with her, a man with dark skin, and he was crying, but she looked worse. She was bruised and had casts on her left arm and right leg. They clung to one another tightly. Both looked very young, maybe Nessie's age (or at least the look of Nessie's age).

But what she saw next was what shocked her, and caused Edward to stop in the middle of Esme's song. Marcus had entered the dungeon, and he looked, dare she say, panicked?

The vision cut then, and her eyes focused to everyone's gaze. Edward was right in front of her, looking terribly confused.

"Marcus? What would Marcus have to do with some humans that doesn't involve dinner?" he asked her, and the room got crowded as Bella joined the curious group, and they all closed in on her couch.

"I don't know Edward, but he looked so odd..." Alice paused and brought up the image in her head that she had seen, "I don't know what this has to do with anything either. I haven't been trying to find him either, so this must have something to do with something I've been trying to see, but I can't make any connections." She frowned, and Edward started explaining to the rest what she'd seen, just as Jacob and Nessie walked into the room.

"She saw two humans in a dungeon, like the one we were in for a little bit in Volterra," Bella shuddered at this, and then hissed, so he took her hand and dragged her body to his, "One was a woman she's seen in a vision before, and the other a man she hasn't. But the weird thing is that she saw Marcus come in, and he didn't look bored. He looked almost... scared." He finished, and the group started trying to figure it out individually.

"Maybe she's been focusing on what the Volturi might do to get to Nessie or us for so long that she started focusing on the Volturi themselves, and this is just a fluke?" said Carlisle, and Esme seemed to relax in his arms.

"But that doesn't answer the question of what he was doing with those humans, or why he was scared," Jasper reminded them from beside her.

"He wasn't really scared, per say," she argued, "He just looked a little panicked, that's all." It was quiet for a moment, while the Cullen clan digested the information, and Alice sighed again.

"Either way, it doesn't affect us yet, so we shouldn't get too worried about it. Those humans probably won't be alive for long anyway, so I doubt I'll see any more of them..."

* * *

He was back. He had been for some time; he had only left for a few minutes, only to return and lean against the wall opposite her and Rickie without a word. He stared, and stared, and looked like he was concentrating hard on something. I was certain that Rickie was close to pissing himself, but I couldn't look over at him, not with Marcus looking at me.

He was entrancing, that was for sure, even though I most certainly did _not_ want to be entranced, I couldn't help staring back at him. He really was beautiful, even with the creepiness factor of bright red eyes. Even creepier, the milky film on them that he seemed perfectly capable of seeing through. The cloak he wore fluttered as he moved, pulling out a hand to brush his long, dark hair from his face. I really wanted to braid his hair in that moment, but thankfully resisted the urge to reach for him.

I had a feeling that if I did, he would reach back, and I might end up touching him again. I wasn't sure if my heart could handle the strain so soon. I sucked in a breath, and imagined I had balls to ask him a question.

"Do you mind if we try negotiating something?" I asked, and he blinked as if I'd startled him from a daydream. Oh, joy. He hadn't really been looking at me at all, and I'd been ogling him like man-meat on a spit.

He was slow to answer, but eventually he did, in that pretty Italian accent I liked so much. I was seriously beginning to wonder how long it took for Stockholm Syndrome to set in. My affection for this monster was unexpected and unhealthy.

"What is it you would like to negotiate?" he asked me. He had stepped closer, until he knelt again in front of me, though even then he was still tall enough to intimidate me. He looked curious now, and I faltered for a moment.

"Send Rickie home," I said, and he blinked again.

"No," he replied bluntly. I got angry again, and I could hear Rickie breathing heavily, but I knew he would stay quiet.

"Why the hell not?" I spat back, and he looked a little startled again. What, did he think she'd nod her head like a good dog? "You want something from me, so I suggest you give me something in return! I want Rickie to go _home_, and you want me to have your monster-spawn. I think I'm asking for something reasonable. Asshole."

Marcus laughed at me then, and it pissed me off even more, but then he paused after taking a breath. Letting out another chuckle, he leaned in to press his face into my shoulder, then my neck again. I held still, though I was practically shaking in my anger.

"Why do you do that, monster?" I asked him, feeling confidant that he wouldn't kill me. At least not yet... He pulled away for a moment to speak, and damn me for feeling a little abandoned.

"I am getting accustomed to your scent Luce, so that I don't try to kill you on accident," he replied. Oh. Because that made plenty of sense. Then he stuck that cold stone nose back against the side of my throat.

"It's Ms. Baker," I snapped impatiently, "And you didn't answer my first question."

"Mmn," he mumbled, this time without moving, so I could feel his lips whisper against my skin and I closed my eyes and swallowed, "He has seen us and knows us. The boy cannot be allowed to leave as he is."

"As he is?" I pressed, then I looked at the object of the conversation himself, who still stayed quiet. Rickie watch me with blurry, teary eyes for a moment, clenched his jaw and fists, then turned away as if he couldn't bear to see the scene the monster and I made. Marcus didn't speak again, so I continued my line of questioning. "What would have to happen for Rickie to get out of here safely?"

"The only way I know for you humans to be dealt with after an encounter of this kind is either death, or becoming like us." It was amazing. I knew they couldn't be human, that they were monsters, and that we wouldn't survive this _vacation_. But to hear it out loud just made it so real. My heart froze, and I handled the truth by growing calmer. We would die, that was a forgone conclusion. I didn't count becoming like them as living. But perhaps I could... no. I wasn't sure that I could do anything at all.

Rickie, of course, did _not_ handle the news that wasn't really news as calmly as I did. He exploded.

"What? What do you mean the only way? Why did you freaks involve us in the first place? Just let us go! I'm too frickin' young for this shit! Damnit!" He slammed his hand against the wall, and it came back bleeding. I felt, rather than saw Marcus tense up. It seemed as if he had stopped breathing all together, and a snarling noise came from his throat before he was away from me and out the door. It slammed shut tightly behind him. I felt the nagging suspicion that I was _extremely_ lucky to have lived at that moment.

* * *

It had all been going rather well for Marcus. He was alright with her scent, she was talking to him, and he had been using the time to think about how to keep her alive. But then that bratty little boy had started to bleed, and everything was ruined. Thankfully, Marcus had just fed directly beforehand.

He felt fine now, of course. The frenzy had passed, and, when he took the time to think about it, that quiet moment before the storm hit had unclogged that piece of his brain. He could think now in ways that he hadn't been able to in... many years.

He still hadn't come up with a solution to keep Aro from deciding to get rid of his Luce, but he was certain that he no longer needed to. Aro wouldn't ever attack one that Marcus was _this_ fond of. The bond had strengthened again in a very short amount of time. It still grew, and the scent was a tangible mixture of the two of them. Marcus had little doubt that it was too late for Aro to prevent him from loving her. He didn't. Not _really_. Not _yet_.

But he would, he knew. And Marcus was not wrong about these matters. She would love him as well, it was obvious she had already begun to want him with her. But now their was a bigger problem. He wanted to change her now. He couldn't afford her dying from childbirth. Marcus wasn't sure how Aro would react to that tidbit of information. Marcus was sure he wouldn't offer her up to another vampire, and he was sure Aro wouldn't kill her. But Aro was extremely crafty when it came to getting what he wanted, and what he _really_ wanted was for the experimental child to be linked to them, the _Volturi_ and not it's guard, by blood.

It was a way that Vampires simply were not capable of attaching themselves to one another. _Bloodlines_ were non-existent, and pedigree had no meaning to them. Marcus was wrenched from his thoughts by a familiar voice.

"Marcus! Brother! What have you achieved with the girl in my absence?" Aro really didn't expect an answer, and kept walking down the hall to ascertain via touch and a little reading of Marcus's mind. So Marcus wasn't surprised when Aro _was_ surprised when he answered.

"I have learned much brother, and you may not be pleased with the progress." Aro glided to Marcus's side and took his hand impatiently. The tingling feeling was a little sharper this time, and it stung a little. Aro's face fell in degrees, until he wore a frown on his lips and another on his forehead.

"I see," was all he said. Then he turned and went the other direction, more than likely in order to scheme a way around Marcus's decision to change her quickly and then keep her.

She would be a beautiful immortal. The only thing that kept her from being a stunning human was the slight discoloration of her skin, and the slight deformity of her bones. Her hair was vibrant, thick and in loose waves and curls of a pretty reddish and brownish mix. Her eyes would be red, and bright, and the delicate, petite form of hers would stand tall and strong like her spirit. Marcus wanted to see it, and he wanted to see her, so he turned to go to her side, when he remembered the boy, and his bleeding hand.

"Aro," he called, and in a few moments his brother returned to the hallway from wherever he had been. He was wearing a satisfied look, as though he'd solved the problem Marcus was causing by bonding with that girl. It was a bit unnerving.

"What should I do about the boy in there who is bleeding?" Marcus asked cautiously.

"Why don't you fetch the woman for now, and bring her into my office. I wish to speak with her, and leave the other in his room for now."

Marcus was suspicious, but could find no reason to refuse his brother the right to speak with his Luce, so he went to retrieve her.

* * *

As soon as the fog caused by Marcus disappeared, I grabbed Rickie's injured hand with my _uninjured_ hand and pulled him close to inspect the wounds he'd given himself. I ripped a strip off of the bottom of my sundress. It was one of my favorites too, a pretty green dress with big, pale yellow flowers in wild patterns. Oh well. The worst part of it was really that it wasn't as easy as it was in the movies. The dress was even of a flimsy material, but it was difficult to tear, and tore in an uneven strip. But we made do. I ripped another tiny chunk to wipe the blood off of Rickie's hand. By this time I new Rickie was looking at me like he pitied me for my feeble strength.

"Do you want some help Lu," he asked in an unconvincing teasing voice. (It was unconvincing because it was so hoarse and still shaking with the force of the emotions that led to the bloody hand.)

"I'm good," I replied, and I was. Once the blood was cleared away for a few seconds, I could tell there were only a few shallow scratches on the side of his hand, but they bled like a bitch, so I shoved the bloody cloth against them and wrapped his hand tightly with the longer strip of sundress. Then, for good measure, I tore another piece off of my ruined dress, and used it to wipe Rickie's messy face.

"Egh," he complained, "Lucy I don't need you to do _that_!" Mission accomplished. I'd made him smile and distracted him from the situation.

However, he quickly sobered and asked me the question I'd been dreading most.

"Why do you let him touch you, Lu?" He sat down in front of me on the floor, as if to say he wouldn't leave until I answered. Stubborn brat.

"Well," I began, "You know how attracted to Heidi you were when we first met?" he nodded as if he understood, and I was glad he accepted it, because somehow I knew that it was much more than just that. Something about that monster made me feel so... I didn't want to think about it, much less explain it to my baby brother!

I sighed, then I started to hum, and the humming changed into singing, and I was singing 'Hide and Seek', by Imogen Heap. It was soft enough to soothe Rickie and he wrapped his big black arms around my waist and laid his cheek on the uninjured part of my lap. I looked at his hand, and it didn't seem to be bleeding through my makeshift bandages. Good.

"You know," he said, quieter than a whisper, "I don't think I really regret much at all Lucy. I think I'm gonna be alright... You don't have to worry so much about me anymore. You can ...l-let go." His voice kind of gave out toward the end.

I choked on the words I was singing and took a shuddering breath. Oh, no. How could he be comforting me? Wasn't I supposed to be protecting him? And here he was, giving up already, telling me to let him go?

"I could never let you go Cocoa-Butter. You're everything," My voice shook and squeaked, and for the first time since this whole debacle started, I let a few tears fall. But I stopped myself before the water-works really started. I swallowed, then I sniffed and wiped my eyes, "I won't give up on you because you're worth more than a thousand of me. You're going to go to college, and get a dog, and meet a nice, pretty girl who'll knock your socks off... and hopefully not take you to Italy to be slaughtered." I added with what should have been a smile, but ended up being a grimace.

I gasped for air so as not to cry again, and my ribs throbbed painfully. The meds were definitely wearing off, and I didn't have more with me. I hadn't thought to bring a purse with my prescription in it. I'd just slipped a few bills of rather large value into my bra like I usually did.

Rickie looked a little green in the face, which was hard with how dark his skin was, and I assumed that I shouldn't have used the term 'slaughtered', but I doubt 'massacred' would be any better, and I couldn't think of anything else to call it.

"Hey Lucy," he started again, "Don'cha think your study'd look nice with a stained glass window?" I chuckled, but didn't say anything, so he continued, "Not with a picture on it or anything, but like the window at that little abandoned church near the orphanage where you'd always go to avoid everybody."

"That's because they were idiots, the lot of them," I joked with him, and a few tears rolled down his cheeks again as he looked up at me. I wiped them with my thumb and waited for him to continue.

"You remember how I was always the one to find you, and you'd be sittin' right underneath the altar, lookin' up at that window," he smiled through a few more tears, "And the room would be full of colors, and you could see dust in the air and on the pews. And...and you told me that if I could climb the bricks to reach that window, I'd prolly be able to reach heaven too." I couldn't see his face anymore through my own tears, so I shut my eyes and leaned my head back.

"And you told me that if I fell from that height, I would break like glass, and you didn't want to go without me," I let out a strangled noise, but didn't say anymore. I couldn't. He'd just told me he didn't _want_ to escape if I couldn't go too. But I was his big sister, and I couldn't let him die, I just couldn't!

"I think that would be nice though, in your study. Maybe if that building is still standing, we can take that same window. But it's too big for that room. It would fit in the parlor though, that room has higher ceilings. It doesn't have a floor above it..." He drifted off, and neither of us had anymore that we could say, so we didn't say anything at all.

Then the door opened, and my monster walked back in to ruin our moment. Rickie stood up, and backed away as much as he could. Somehow he knew he couldn't stand in front of me to protect me, and I was grateful for that insight. Marcus glanced momentarily in Rickie's direction, or, rather, in the direction of Rickie's injured hand, but then moved on to look at me. After the initial inspection, he stepped forward until he was right in front of me, and, like the other times he'd come, knelt to get a closer look at me. He grabbed my face gently in both cold, hard hands, and they felt good against my face, which had been warmed by the tears I'd shed just minutes ago.

Then Marcus stood, and then he grasped my waist and lifted me until I stood. I was a little surprised at our height difference. He was taller than I'd been thinking. Either that, or I had forgotten how short _I_ was. I had to crane my neck to look up at him, especially since he was so close to me. I could feel the lack of body heat he had all the way from my head to the floor, and the reminder kept me from going completely gooey with his arms around me.

I gasped and yelped when, suddenly, my feet left the ground and I was in his arms.

"Wait!" cried Rickie, "Where are you going? You don't mean to- not now!" And I suddenly realized the implications and grew pale.

"No," said Marcus in that delightful voice of his, "My brother wished to speak with her, then she will return to you for a time." I sighed in relief, though I knew very well that he could be lying. With that, he swept us out the door in a disconcertingly graceful gait towards the elevator. The door to the cell swung shut behind us, and the elevator doors opened in front. Once the elevator doors closed as well, Marcus broke the silence.

"Luce," he began, and I, not knowing where the confidence came from after my recent mini-break-down, responded in my usual voice.

"Ms. Baker." he continued as if I hadn't spoken at all.

"Luce, you must understand that my brother is not as straight-forward as I am. I have grown attached to you, and I am sure you have felt the bond that is growing between us. It was an unexpected factor, and it changes things. I would ask that you _not_ become a mother, and simply become like me. And marry me," he added at the end, as if he were chatting about lunch, and not life-changing decisions.

"Oh, well that makes sense," I said, "On Mars." Before I could really get into it with him, the elevator doors opened once again, and Marcus walked into the lobby, which was filled with monsters and made me unwilling to continue my arguments. But we passed through that room quickly, through a door, and into a hallway I didn't recognize from any of her visit earlier. At the end of this new path was another set of heavy wooden double-doors.

Marcus opened these easily with a free foot, and maneuvered us into the next room. It was nicely furnished, with big, fluffy leather chairs, one of which I was placed into carefully by my monster transportation device. The desk in front of me was a beautifully maintained antique, and the bookshelves lining the wall behind it were filled with old looking texts, and even a few scrolls.

However, between that pretty antique desk and lovely collection of books was an awful monster who made me want to dunk myself in hydrochloric acid and then jump into a tub filled with salt.

"Hello Ms. Baker!" crooned that airy, spiders-crawling-down-your-back voice of his... Aro was his name, right?

"Hello demon," I replied with just as much superficial peppiness, and a bright smile. He let the insult pass, and moved to stand in front of his desk, rather than behind it. Now _that_ made me uncomfortable. Marcus shifted from behind me, like it made _him_ uncomfortable too, and that just made it worse.

"I understand that you would like to negotiate," he said, and took my good hand in his without permission. I grunted, and he stood and seemed to concentrate on something. Then, after a few moments, he smiled like he had won a great victory, and I wondered if he'd just let out a really good fart. Sometimes those felt victorious, but I didn't smell anything, so I simply assumed he was insane. I know, I'm brilliant. People are always asking me to shake their hands and kiss their babies.

"Luce," Aro said.

"Ms. Baker," I corrected.

"You see, my brother Marcus has grown father fond of you," he said, as if I hadn't spoken, and, suddenly, I could see the family resemblance, "He is no longer willing to risk your health with the complications of a pregnancy. However, when all is said and done, that decision is also _yours_ to make." he paused, for dramatic affect, perhaps? I was right when I said this guy was a nut-case, but I kept paying attention anyway.

"Luce."

"Ms. Baker."

"If you make the decision to have a child, We will send you and your friend back to your home, with Marcus and a few guards, and allow you one year before we ask that you consummate your relationship."

"Done," I said, sealing my fate. That was easy.

* * *

Howdy folks! I wrote ten pages this time, for more than one reason.

First, I had to write a bit about the Clan de Cullen to introduce them and to work through a block.

Second, I had to apologize for such a long dry spell. I'm really sorry guys. I'm a useless writer who deserves to sleep outside with the dogs. In the rain.

And third, I will be on a vacation starting tomorrow... Oops, I mean, today, and I won't be able to get any work done on this until I get back.

The block I had was how to get out of Volterra and back to The States, in case you were wondering, and I'm very glad to have sorted that out, because my brain is already months ahead in the storyline. Not that I wouldn't be open to suggestions or requests. And I am always open to anybody who wants to point out errors in my writing. :D

Goodnight, God bless, please review. Thank you for reading!


	7. Spilling of Guts

Disclaimer: I disclaim.

* * *

Marcus had a dark look on his face, and I was feeling a little regretful as the elevator doors closed. Not for my decision, not yet, but because now I was stuck in a tiny place, held captive in the arms of an angry... whatever he was. As soon as the elevator had started moving, Marcus rather gently set my feet down and reached a pale, cold arm to press the emergency stop button.

"Luce," he started, but said nothing else for a few moments. Then picked me up again, this time sliding down the wall to the floor and pulling me into the space between his legs. I sighed, because he was cold against my aching ribs, and because that pheromone he must have been producing that made him smell so sweet was on full blast. Seeing as I was stuck, why not enjoy, eh?

"Luce," he began again, "Can I not convince you to change your mind?" He touched his cold fingertips to my jawline and tilted my head up to his face, bringing his down closer, in what I believe to depths of my rotten soul an intentional effort to manipulate me with his beauty. Jerk.

"What can you offer that's better than what he did?" I asked petulantly when I could think again. He seemed to consider this for a while, and I took the opportunity to stretch my uninjured leg out to meet the casted one, conveniently underneath his uplifted knee. Then I marveled a bit, because his body was spread out in just the perfect way to accommodate my injuries, and I wonder how he knew, why he was so attuned to that.

Somehow in the span of minutes since we'd met, Marcus had become as acclimated to my signals as Rickie was after the many years he'd been with me. It was highly disturbing.

I pulled forward a bit in his arms, as if to sneak away, but he just tightened his grip a little and put one hand on the side of my face, pressing it to his collarbone. I didn't dare resist, what with the force I somehow knew him capable, and the fragility of my own body, all I could do was feel a little helpless and useless.

"You are so delicate Luce," Marcus said quietly, "And I have not held a woman in my arms in a very long time."

I don't know what else he could possibly have said to inspire my anger so quickly as he did in that moment. One, another woman. That made me jealous. Two, I was jealous. That made it worse. Three, I was frightened at the sudden severity of emotion that I couldn't explain. I pulled away again, and this time, he let me, looking at my face with an expression that seemed all at once embarrassed and frightened. He seemed so childlike and innocent in the one moment that I was taken aback.

"Well," I stuttered, "I haven't held a woman in a while either..." Oh, my God. If I could have died then... Usually when I say something sarcastic, I think first, but he was just so pretty...

Marcus's face became even more stony then.

"Uh... That was a joke...?" I said, my face must have been several shades darker than a pomegranate then, which, if anybody is wondering, is my favorite fruit. And so good for you, look it up folks.

* * *

"I fail to see any humor in this situation," Marcus said after a moment, trying to gauge the look on Luce's face. She was bright red, and it was a little dizzying to see the blood flush, and to hear her heart beat so loudly in her embarrassment.

He watched the colors swirl between them and focused on the scent of their bond. It was an amazing thing, bonds between people. They each had colors, and shapes, and scents. Some were thick, almost opaque, some translucent and wispy. And they flowed at different speeds, swirling and waving, or taut like cables strung between people.

The bond between Luce and himself was a marvel. It reminded him of the bonds between the members of the Cullen clans in consistency, and the way it grew was frightening. Just earlier in the same day since he had met her, it had been like a thread, was thicker, and brighter, smelling like her, and like him. It was a pleasing mixture that curbed his thirst for her. He watched it glow slightly and pressed his nose again behind her ear to breath in the scent cautiously. He found it didn't burn half as much as it had before, and pulled the tip of his nose through her hair.

"M-marcus," She squeaked, "Why do you keep sniffing me? Are you a dog?" Something about her tone made him pull back and look at her face to gauge her expression. She looked a little nervous, but more intent, as though she thought perhaps that was the kind of monster he was. He chuckled darkly, and the look on his face must have frightened her, because she clenched her fingers on her right hand and shifted away.

Again. He let her gain some distance, pulling his arms back and capturing her hand to gently uncurl the fist she'd made. He stretched her fingers out and inspected them silently. They weren't quite straight, any of them. He turned his eyes then to hers, questioning wordlessly.

"I broke my fingers a lot when I was younger," She answered, "The people who raised me didn't really take care that they healed straight, so I have crooked fingers. They still work fairly well," she added, and he sensed in that moment a great deal of pain and shame that she was trying to hide, "So it's not like I'm crippled."

Then she looked at him with a determined gaze, and the silvery irises demanded his attention.

"Your turn."

Marcus sighed and, wondering why he was so willing do as this child commanded him, began to speak.

"I am not a dog." And then he paused, looking for words that wouldn't overly frighten her, but she wasn't in the mood to wait.

"And?" She pressed him, not giving even a centimeter.

"I am immortal, and I consume human blood." Marcus finally relented, then felt like he'd used the wrong words. He waited for a reaction for two seconds, then three, then four...

Uh... Wha...? Hmm. Sooooo...

And then I exploded. "Vampire?!" I practically shouted, hurting my ribs with the force of the exhalation, "Like, Bram Stoker, Dracula, 'I vaaant to suuuuck your blood', vampire?!" I had to draw a deep breath then, right before I surrendered to the peals of giggles that overcame me. Ouch. Giggles hurt.

But I couldn't stop. It was just too funny. Or maybe it wasn't funny at all. I was just so tired, and wired, and shocked, and in so much unnecessary pain. Why the hell are vampires real? Couldn't he have been a fairy? Or a leprechaun? The thought of the tall, brooding man in a green suit and hat dancing a jig _was_ funny though, and again began the giggling, just as I'd though it could stop.

"Oh! Oh! Ouch! Hahaha!" I looked up into the face of my vampire captor, and he looked so helpless with his eyebrows lifted so high and his jaw a little slack, and those filmy red eyes just so confused.

"Pffahaha!" I started up again, and then tears started rolling down my cheeks, and I couldn't breathe, and I started to hiccup a little. Then gasp, and suddenly, I was hyperventilating, and clawing at the chalky hand that held mine. I couldn't see his face then, because everything went dark.

* * *

When I woke up, it was to the pressure, dry air, and dull roar of a plane's engines. All I could think of at that point was; how fast. I suppose Marcus hadn't argued with the eviler vampire's decision. Then all of a sudden the pain swept over me like a wave. I really should have taken that medication. I opened my eyes blearily to my surroundings. The plane was small. The interior was rich, warm colors, with lots of wooden paneling and earth toned draperies. I felt leather beneath me, and a thick wool blanket over me.

My second though was, of course Rickie. I sat up slowly, and was relieved to find him in the seat facing me, and met his tired, worried eyes. I relaxed the tension I hadn't known I was carrying at the sight of my baby's exhausted face.

"You look awful," I said. He smiled sadly.

"You look worse."

"Drugs?"

"Mn. I'll get 'em"

"Thanks Cocoa-butter."

I looked to the side of me, without surprise to find Marcus the vampire watching me cautiously, like I was a madwoman, which, given the recent, episode... Was _all his fault_. Phooey. I knew I must have been pouting like a child, because all of a sudden he reached his long, tapered fingers out and squished my cheeks in. He raised an eyebrow at me, and I thought the corner of his mouth twitched.

"You frightened me," he said simply, and I could see that I had by the relief in his eyes, and a bit of something else that I looked away to avoid seeing. Then I watched his arms come into view before he took the liberty of picking me up, wool blanket and all, and fitting me into that same place as he had in the elevator, wrapped around me like an octopus. When Rickie turned from my luggage with the prescriptions and water bottle, he almost dropped them.

"Lu-what are you?" he pleaded, and his voice cracked with fear. He quickly closed the space between us and sat down on the floor of the private jet (which, privately, I'll admit to wanting one of my own) in front of us. He didn't say anything else, and I'm afraid that Marcus may have been discouraging it wordlessly from behind me. He just opened the bottles, shook out some drugs, and gently placed them in my waiting palm, then opened the water for me.

I threw back those pills in a heartbeat and grabbed the water to slough it all back with, feeling better immediately with just the knowledge that I would be beyond any worries soon in a less pained, drug induced high.

"Thank you so much Rickie," I said, my voice thick with gratitude. And then I reached out my good hand to grab his, and I felt the monst- ..._vampire_ behind me tense and release in reaction. But this time Rick was looking at me, and didn't shy away from whatever face was being made. I kept his hand in mine and spoke again, this time to Marcus.

"Are we going to my home?" I asked, wanting to know more than just that.

"Your deal is being upheld."

"One year?" I asked.

"One year," he replied, and seemed so sad at the words that I looked back at him awkwardly, turning at an almost uncomfortable angle, until he shifted us so that I could see him more easily. I leaned now against his arm rather than flat against his chest, and then missed the cold for my swelling torso. Oh, whoops. I may have been approaching feverish. Shh. Don't tell anybody.

Yes. His face was sad. Devastated almost. The weight of all the sorrow I'd known in my whole life seemed as nothing in the face of what he felt in that single moment, and I don't want to seem like I'm out for pity (we've been over that), but I have reasons for my bitterness.

"What is it?" I asked him, getting a little frightened at his silence. Somehow I really didn't like how dark his eyes were.

For a few minutes, he said nothing at all, and I turned to Rickie when he squeezed my hand gently.

"Lu, you slept for a long time," he whispered, "We're in American air right now. An' we'll be landing at a private airstrip 'n Georgia in an hour or so."

"Oh," I replied, a little shocked, "I guess I needed the sleep. How far is the airport from home?"

"Two or three hours."

I smiled then, anxious to see my treasure again, and Rickie smiled back, picking up my hand in both of his larger, darker ones to place it on the top of his head. I rubbed with my fingertips, feeling out pressure points against the rough scratchiness of the shaved hair that was growing back. He hmned softly and leaned against the chair without touching my vampire. Almost immediately he was snoring in soft, grumbling snuffles that I loved so very dearly.

I don't know if I've been able to express this upon you, but that child's the joy of my life. He will always have a piece of my heart that nobody else will get. I didn't give birth to him, and never acted a mother to him, but the maternal instincts, what little I have, always acted up like a storm around that giant puppy child. I was definitely going to get him a dog.

I sighed with pleasure at the comforting bearish noises and pulled the blankets tighter around me. I was starting to get a bit chilly, and a bit sleepy, and a bit numb to the pain. That was why I was so stunned when Marcus finally started talking behind me.

"Didyme," he said so softly and carefully that I turned to look at his lips to see if they'd moved, "The woman I loved once was called Didyme."

He was silent again, and I looked from his lips to his eyes, but had to look away.

"She was happiness. It was her gift. And she chose _me_."

My throat felt a little clogged, and my heart a little achy, but I waited for him to work up the courage for more words. And I knew then that it _was_ courage he was showing. I realized that he was speaking of things he hadn't spoken of in years... Decades? Centuries? I didn't know how long, just that it was an old pain, and deep. And the dirtier part of myself was glad that she was gone. I didn't delve too deeply into my reasoning.

"In all my existence, I had never known such happiness as when she smiled at me," he said again, and his voice was so heavy with emotion that I couldn't look up, "We were going to leave, and spend our days searching the world for all the joys it could offer." His breathing hitched and he had to stop again. He wrapped himself around me again, clutching me as if I could hold the pain at bay. He couldn't finish, and I knew that, somehow. So I didn't ask. The ending was obvious anyway.

Maybe it was the drugs, and maybe it was whatever supernatural thing was going on between us, but I felt my mouth opening too.

"I was fifteen," I said, and then winced, checking to make sure that Rickie was still asleep. He was, and I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, "I'd been adopted by a rich old woman who pitied me for my weakness, and wanted to show me that the world had kindness in it."

I scoffed bitterly at the memory of that old hags face in my brain, then remembered another face that made me full of hate and pain and old fear. Marcus didn't push me, and I was grateful, because I was repaying his story with one I'd never told a soul.

"She had a nephew a couple years older than me, and he wanted her inheritance so badly that he took to all sorts of awful pranks and insults when her back was turned... Almost pushed me down the stairs to my death, and certainly broke my wrist. Not that that was hard to do," and I stopped again, because I knew I was getting off-track to avoid saying the rest.

"One day, he... He was so angry that day... I think he'd just seen her arguing with his dad about her will." I squirmed a bit, listening to Rickie's snores to calm down. My heart was beating a mile a minute, and I was sweating, but I felt so cold, and it wasn't just Marcus.

"It's not like I could struggle with him, hell," and my voice cracked and felt brittle, "He broke so many bones anyway, I can't imagine, I mean... He would've snapped my spine."

That was all I could say, but I didn't have to say more. I heard him growl behind me, and turned to see fire in his eyes.

Marcus was the monster then, and I felt my fight-or-flight instincts kick in. Only he wasn't letting me get away.

"Marcus!" I whimpered, "Hey! Let go, your scaring me!" The blood red of his eyes was brighter than ever, and even his chalky skin seemed more like granite or marble, like it could snap me in half. "Marcus! Stop!"

And then he saw me again, and cried out softly, pressing his nose deeply into my hair again.

"I will kill him," he hissed into my ear venomously.

"N-no need," I stuttered back, trying to swallow my heart back down.

"I _will_."

"You can't," I said, and he must have heard what I wasn't saying, because he tilted my chin again with his fingertips so he could see my face, "He's dead."

I didn't say anymore than that, and I certainly never will. Not to him, or to anyone. _That _darkness I'll take with me to the grave.

Marcus became very quiet then, and all I could hear was the roar of the engine and Rickie sleeping.

* * *

Luce's steady heartbeat and slow, even breaths calmed Marcus only a little. Inside he was so hot with anger he couldn't think. His little Luce, with a fierce soul in such a fragile body, the thought of...

And all at once, he realized he was no better, and he was as cold as he had just been hot. Waves of guilt as he hadn't felt in centuries swept through him, even coloring the bond that had just been strengthened by opening himself to her. He felt sick.

Marcus looked around for anything he could think of to distract himself. This! This _here_ was why he had shut out emotions before with that cloud of hazy, blessed indifference. He groaned softly at the brunt of it, and then, ever so gently set Luce down on the leather chair, stood, and walked to a cabinet to retrieve another blanket. He wrapped it snugly around her, under her feet, and tucked it beneath her chin tenderly. In a show of generosity, her pulled out another blanket for the boy, draping it over him with decidedly less affection.

Then he left for the cockpit, away from the sleeping children.

Inside the cockpit he found Demetri and a disposable human flying the plane in silence. The human looked terrified, and Marcus assumed he was not aware of who, or what, rather, he was transporting across the ocean alone. Demetri looked up at Marcus, and met his eyes. What he saw must have disturbed him, because he tensed up like a spring and glanced back at the passenger compartment suspiciously.

"How soon until we arrive, captain?" asked Marcus in a voice a bit stronger than he remembered it being before. Demetri seemed to notice the oddity as well, but the pilot was oblivious, and answered.

"It'll be half an hour yet, sir," then swallowed convulsively, his heart-rate soaring. Demetri glanced over in a greedy way, but Marcus had better control due to his age and former indifference to anything, and laid his palm on Demetri's shoulder as warning. The younger vampire settled down, but remained alert to the pilots every heartbeat. With that, Marcus returned to his human and her boy.

* * *

"Whoa, Alice! What could that mean?"

All heads present turned to look at Edward and Alice, who had suddenly stopped what they were doing at the piano. Bella was by their side in an instant Taking Edward's hand and looking at her sister nervously. Jasper, Esme and Carlisle were the only other people in the room. Jake and Nessie were running laps with Seth and Leah in La Push territory to blow off steam since the princess's favorite Auntie wasn't back.

"What did you see?" asked Carlisle, worried. It had been only hours since the disturbing vision of the Volturi lord in the dungeon, and now it seemed to have taken a more frightening turn yet.

"He's in the U.S." said Edward calmly, and the room got colder, "He has that woman with him, and Demetri, and they landed a plane in Georgia, it looks like.

"What?" cried Bella, "What do the Volturi want to do there, set up a base camp to launch an assault on us?" Everyone paused to consider that suggestion, and Alice focused as hard as she could on the image, to get as much out of it as possible.

"Why would they only send those two?" asked Esme, "That doesn't make much sense. They never separate themselves from the guard, and what's more, why would Marcus split up from Aro and Caius?" She pressed her back against her husband for comfort, and Carlisle put his arms around her, silently seeking the same. The room was quiet while all of its inhabitants tried to figure out some sort of explanation. Jasper was the first to speak.

"We should go check it out," he said, breaking the silence, "Or at least go meet up with Em and Rose to make sure they're alright." It was something no one else had considered, that some of their family was in the southeast at that very moment, hours perhaps from the reach of Demetri...

Esme whimpered. Bella hissed.

"I'll call Tanya down from Anchorage. Someone should stay with us here where Nessie and the wolves are," said Carlisle sensibly, "Jasper? Alice?"

"We'll be safe," said Alice brightly, "They won't be trying anything in the near future. We should be able to meet up with Rose and Emmett in Texas somewhere. Bella, will you call for us?"

Bella reached in her jacket pocket for her cell-phone and dialed, but got nothing.

"Alice," she started.

"Keep trying. You will get through." And then she and Jazz were out the door and gone.

* * *

Okay. Hey. I know I haven't updated this story in a long time, but I've found life to be a extra busy place in the past few years. I also had six or seven pages written that I lost when my operating system had to be wiped to cure an evil virus. So this chapter is a bit different than the original, but hopefully as good. It's not like anyone will ever know, eh?

But I make a promise here and now. I _will_ finish this story, even if it takes forever, because I already know where it's going, and I've sped the time line up a little to help. I may never write anything else, but I will definitely see this through!

Now that that's over with, I also updated the earlier chapters with a couple of very minor changes. Feel free to let me know of any mistakes I've made, and cross your fingers for the next chapter. :]


	8. Colorful Bondage

Disclaimer: I disclaim.

* * *

When I woke again, I had already been carried off the plane, and was leaned against the wall of the hangar in a wad of wool. Rickie was shouting something at Marcus that I couldn't hear over plane engines, and another vampire stood off to the side, staring at the line where the shade met the sunlight.

I swallowed over a lump of cotton in my throat, then coughed a bit, and Marcus swung his head to me in an eerie motion, as if I'd screamed. Then he drifted over to me and squatted just a little too fast in front of me. I shook my head and blinked a couple times. Rickie had followed him over, sitting down beside me so he could say something in my ear.

"We don't have a ride," he growled out angrily, "These idiots were planning to _run_ to the manor."

I burst out into more painful laughter. Oh, man, oh man, oh man! I'd never laughed so much in my life until I got kidnapped by vampires for baby makage.

"Where's my cell?" I yelled back. Rickie's face got redder and madder.

"They left our luggage, your purse, our phones, your parasol... The only thing they brought was your medication."

The laughter was officially over. I turned on Marcus, who seemed confused about the whole thing.

"You left my parasol?" I hissed, unwilling to let that pretty, distracting face deter my wrath, "You do know I'm allergic to sunlight, right? As in I get a rash when I don't have enough coverage? Aren't you burned by it too? I thought a vampire would know better?"

Rickie tensed beside me. "Vampire?" he squeaked, "That's what they are? But it's daylight..."

Oh, there's the humor. I'd forgotten Rickie didn't yet know that I was to be a vampire baby mama. You wonder why I bring this up every few paragraphs? It was starting to sink in. I wasn't ever going to have children. My plan was to waste my time in the greenhouse and will away my money to Rickie when I finally broke completely, which I hadn't planned on doing within a year...

Oh, no! I was going to die. In. Out. In. Out. _Breathe Lucy_, I told myself. I closed my eyes to focus on my breathing, and thought about pleasant things, like flowers. And birds. And more flowers. My favorite veteran's honor red roses. The lovely red cardinals that had built a nest in my lace leaf Japanese Maple. I felt a cold finger touch my cheek gently, and my eyes flew open to see red.

The same filmy red that had been on my mind, that I'd been distracting myself from with flowers and birds. I took a gulp of air and focused on Marcus's eyes. They were brighter than I thought. Less filmy. I started to calm down a bit and thought about the situation at hand. We could probably use someone else's phone. I knew the gardener's number off of the top of my head, and she would probably be at home now anyway. So that was two or three hours to wait?

"What time is it?" I asked Rick, who was still grumbling about stupid vampires and flaming Italians. Snort. I was fairly certain that Rickie was talking about actual fire, and that Marcus was straight, but the other dude? I looked over at him. He was beautiful, like they all were, and his features were masculine, but the way he was pouting over there, pursing his pale lips and watching the sunlight inch closer... I tried not to laugh, almost failing, and had to ask Rickie to repeat what he said when I realized he'd been shouting at me again.

"It's four in the afternoon," he said again, and I frowned. Anne would be headed home soon, and she lived a little further away than two hours from the manor. I didn't know which direction that was from here, because I didn't know where here was.

"Ask the owner here if we can borrow a cell phone. I'm going to call Anne to pick us up," I called to Rickie.

"What?" he asked, but Marcus was already up in moving, walking towards a man in grayish coveralls with a walkie-talkie. He spoke very briefly, and came back with an older model of phone in a sturdy old case. He glided over to me again, which is when I realized that he was wearing some really funky clothing.

Hmm. You'd think I would have noticed already that he was in all black with a cape. And I thought that _I_ dressed old fashioned. When he reached where Rickie and I were sitting on the floor, instead of my expectations of him handing the phone to my one functioning, outstretched hand, he reached both of his stony arms about me and bodily lifted me against his cold chest. I saw both Rickie and Demetri twitch from my periphery. Huh. Maybe the other guy _was_ gay.

In a move I don't think even my Rickie could do while carrying me, Marcus shifted me into one arm, and placed the cell phone into my hand. I blinked a couple of times, then got over it and started dialing one of two numbers that I actually knew. The phone rang two or three times in my ear before a lovely voice rang out that I realized I was fond of only then, after the ordeal through which I was still undergoing.

"Hello Miss Lucy! How is your vacation going? I take it you want an update on your precious babies? They miss you terribly! I've never seen such behavior out of them, no perk in 'em. It try to talk to 'em 'n coddle 'em, but they won't get any less droopy. I swear Miss Lucy, your babies is the oddest sort I've ever seen. So damn pretty all the time. But right now the look a bit under the weather as much as such precious beauties can."

I'd forgotten how talkative that moron was.

"Anne, the vacation was cut short," I replied tersely, ignoring the question in Marcus's eyes when he heard the word 'babies'. What, did he think she meant really babies? "I need you to pick us up at a small private airstrip, in... wherever the hell this place is. Marcus, where are we again?"

I handed the phone over and glanced at Rickie while Marcus spoke in smooth accented English, probably charming the underwear off of my gardener. Rickie seemed uncomfortable with the way I was being held, I could see the nerves. He looked like he was biting the inside of his cheek again.

"Rickie," I said, "Quit biting your cheek."

"Tell him to put you down," he countered. Then looked away, as Demetri was closing in on us, having taken interest in what Marcus was saying, I suppose. Then I realized that the phone was being pressed to _my_ ear, and Anne had probably been talking to me for several seconds... long enough for the conversation to be eights planets away.

"-llo! Hello! Miss Lucy?"

"I wasn't listening Anne, was it important?"

"Wha? Of course it was important Miss Lucy! Everything I say is important! And who may I ask is the gentleman you just handed the phone to? Did you bring home an Italian? Must have been one hell of a vacation to return in two days totin' a lovely new gigolo. Didn't you think to bring one back for me?" I could hear her pout in her voice and smiled at the sight of it in my brain.

Such a cheeky, bratty woman. Why did I put up with her? That would be because she knew her shit, and my gardens were always her first priority. I think she may have had an unhealthy fixation on them though. Seriously? My plants wouldn't have even known I was gone, much less wilted without me.

"Then be a good dear and repeat yourself," I finally answered.

"I said," she sang sweetly, "that I would be there in less than an hour, because I went home early and that airstrip is close to home for me. Put in a good word for the owner, will you? He's so cuuuuuute!"

And then I hung up the phone because she was obnoxious. Rickie took the cell from my hand and walked over to the man in coveralls, and spent more time over there than I would have thought, unless he'd heard Anne over the phone? She did have an awfully loud voice with a brassy timbre.

_But, really, louder than plane engines?_ I thought, before realizing that it was suddenly quiet, with no planes in sight.

Ah. Sometimes I'm woefully unobservant. Marcus tightened his arms around me, so I looked at him in response. His eyes seemed to be smiling at me, and there were gentle looking creases spreading from the corners. Even vampires look more attractive with crow's feet. What do you know. He expertly maneuvered us until we were sitting on the cool cement of the hangar into what I was beginning to assume was his favorite position. He was once again wrapped around my frame, with my broken parts off to the side and his fingers on my face.

I sighed, partially out of irritation and partially contentment. Don't you dare repeat that!

He, to no great surprise, drug his fingers along my chin back to the side of my neck and pressed his cold, hard nose into my hair on the other side of my neck, breathing slowly and deeply.

"Why do you do that?" I asked.

"I want to make myself familiar with your scent... to get used to, ehm..."

"Get acclimated?" I supplied.

"Si, this is the word."

And then he said nothing. I looked over and noticed Rickie was still talking to the owner. I noticed him gesturing to a small jet as he spoke, and assumed he was making another expensive purchase with my wallet.

"Il colore che scorre come l'acqua tra di noi è in crescita dal momento. Il profumo è in fiore e splende come il sole nella nostra connessione."

Ooh. Do that again, I thought, but what I said was, "Yo no hablo Italiano. Habla en ingles por favor."

He looked down at me, and I'm pretty sure it was a funny picture. One, because I could feel my face drawn into a frown. Two, because he let out a laugh that would have made the groundhog forget seeing his shadow to come hear. It was breathtakingly beautiful to my ears. It seemed a little unused, but still velvety and rich.

He looked at me, or almost, it seemed, and smiled a little.

"You liked that," he said, and I'm sure my face went all sorts of red.

"Wha! N-no! I! I don't..." I said, more lamely than ever have I known myself to be.

He seemed to sense my distress (who wouldn't), and changed the subject for me.

"This Anne," he said quietly, "She looks after your children?" He asked, the smile leaving his eyes.

"N-no!" I sputtered, "I'm not a mother, uh... yet?" I cringed. And he frowned. He looked contemplative, and my confusion must have been obvious, because he changed the subject quickly, glancing for a moment at the other vampire.

"Then she was referring to animals perhaps?"

"No. My plants," I admitted, "I have a large greenhouse. It's what I enjoy most in the world other than Rickie." He looked like that remark almost hurt, but I wasn't going to take it back. What we were doing, or having, or whatever, I didn't want to admit was important. It was frightening to be so attached to someone I'd barely just met.

"Tell me more Luce," he said instead, "I want to know."

"Wait, about what?"

"Anything."

* * *

Rose was finishing her meal when Bella finally got through.

"Rose! You answered!"

She was instantly alarmed by Bella's tone. Bella was generally as overly dramatic, if not more-so, than Edward, but there was always the chance, and there were certain people about which _no_ chances could be taken.

"What? Is something wrong? Nessie? Is Nessie okay?"

"It isn't about Reneesme, Rose."

Rose visibly relaxed, and Emmett finished playing with his bear so that he could listen in on the conversation. They were somewhere in Alabama now, and the game was rather small. Black bears and tiny deer. But more people were out in the woods hunting than seemed worth the trouble for such insignificant trophies.

"Alice and Jasper are going down to meet you on your way back just in case. Marcus and Demetri are in Georgia."

Rose tensed up again, but Emmett seemed thrilled.

"Wouldn't this be a great opportunity? Are they alone?" he asked, pushing his face towards Rose and the mouthpiece. Both women hissed at him in response.

Emmett chuckled darkly. Only to get smacked in the face by his lovely, if violent, wife.

"Thank you for the warning Bella," replied Rosalie softly, "I'll call back when we meet up with the others." She hung the phone up and turned to her love.

Without speaking, as one, they turned to where they had parked the jeep, and where they would have a change of clothing for her messy, messy Emmett. They breezed through the Alabaman woods together, in an easterly direction until they came upon the highway where they were parked on the shoulder.

With movements too quick for the human eye to perceive, they hopped to, opened doors and got settled in the vehicle. Emmett reached into the backseat for his clothing, stretching all sorts of delightful muscles through his torn shirt. Rosalie's breath hitched a bit, and Emmett looked back with mischievous eyes.

"Em," she said, a little lower in pitch than she meant, "We have to go meet Alice and Jasper. We won't get to them until we're somewhere in northern Texas..."

He smiled back, knowingly unleashing the dimples she adored, and it was terribly apparent that he knew exactly what he was doing to her. She let out a sound that was almost a whine in the back of her throat at the temptation he always, always, _always_ presented to her.

"What," he said, looking at her exposed knee from a rip in her jeans and slowly drawing his gaze up, "I'm just grabbing clothes...?"

"Not yet."

* * *

Learning about Luce was like a treasure hunt. Marcus had to ask the question, interpret the answer, and then pry out anything she neglected to mention, purposefully or by accident.

"So you were raised in an orphanage with the boy."

"His name is Rickie."

"With Rickie, then, yes?"

"Ah, yeah. A really poor orphanage in one of the seedier parts of Atlanta."

"What happened to your parents?"

"None?"

"Explain."

Luce scowled at him, and the bond started glowing a little hotly in his direction, almost where it met the darkness of his guilt for what he was doing to her. All of her emotions were so lively, even when she suppressed the physical signs of them. She opened her mouth to speak, and the colors got a little warbled. She was upset... ashamed.

"My mother dropped me there about as soon as she had me. She wasn't in the sort of business that paid enough for daycare, or _nightcare_, rather."

"Ah, a profession that will never go out of style, I'm afraid," he responded, working hard to show her that it wasn't something that bothered him. It really wasn't, he just didn't want her to make any assumptions, since it obviously bothered her. She seemed to appreciate the dry humor though, as evidenced in her relaxing against his chest.

"How did you fare?" He pried further, "living with so many others, with your condition."

"I learned how to deal."

"How?"

"Nosy. I developed really good aim with a slingshot, and learned all the best hiding spots in the area," she said, wiggling her crooked fingers at him, "I broke my fingers a lot in the process, and I never got them properly treated. The manager was a real Miss Hannigan. She treated us like objects and had all sorts of affairs in the office. I'm almost positive she got her nasty paws on Rickie's dad when that bastard dropped him there."

"Why did he leave the boy?" asked Marcus, genuinely confused. His brother was so bent on this possibility of a child that it was hard to imagine someone giving up the child they had.

"He was a drunk, gambling, abusive asshole who didn't want to take care of a kid after his wife ran off."

"How did the two of you become close?"

"It was a relationship of convenience," She said quietly, "He looked out for me with bullies, and I gave him half of my food. He grew so damn quickly," she swore, "I don't know how he survived the loss of nutrients after I got adopted."

"When was this in your life Luce," Marcus asked.

"Hmm, I was thirteen when the old hag decided to be a saint to a poor, unwanted and crippled child. Not that she was doing it for show. That would have been better."

Marcus was confused again. The bond started showing signs of her sour mood, but he couldn't understand what disturbed her about the memory. "Why do you grow so angry at the kindness of the one who took you away from the orphanage?"

Luce looked at him speculatively. Then she looked down at her hand, sighing and leaning her head back until it hit his arm, and turning her eyes to the ceiling of the hangar. She watched the rafters for a few moments before she answered, and Marcus in turn watched the glowing strands twist between them.

"Her pity," she whispered, "It was painful."

Somehow sensing that she was giving away a deeper part of herself again to him, he waited instead of pressing her. He reached one of his hands out to hers, stretching her fingers again, and then lacing them with his. They stayed that way until she found the courage to speak again.

"I'm not normal Marcus," she paused a moment, like she was going to lock up, but kept going, "I couldn't go play with the other kids. I couldn't wrestle or run or jump on the bed... I've known all of my life that I'm at a disadvantage. But I don't want that to be all there is to me!" Her face grew a little red and heated with emotion, and her eyebrows furrowed, "I'm more than helpless Marcus! I can overcome things, like anyone else! My _handicap_ doesn't make me _less!_ All she saw was some poor kid that she thought couldn't make it without the help." She finished in a rush.

"I hate it!" and this time she sounded more frustrated than he had ever heard her, "I hate living like this! I can't even walk around in public like a normal human being!"

For all of her fierceness, she had kept her volume low, and, removing her hand from his, she pointed her index finger at the dark skinned child that she had been so adamant about protecting. In a voice so soft that none without his advanced hearing could have made out, she said, "That boy is my redemption." And then she said no more, and he couldn't figure out how to start another conversation in the wake of her confession.

Instead he watched the threads of their connection, glimmering lightly in some unseen breeze. Then he looked at the space between Luce and Rickie. Their connection was very bright. It was all pastels and very thick, with a sweet scent drifting off of it like baked goods. It was darker on her end, but some strands were bright and shining all the way across in both directions. The only thing that calmed his jealous heart was that there was absolutely no sense of romance.

Marcus did not think he could have won her if that had been the case, and that was difficult to accept. He pulled his eyes back to the strings attaching him to Luce, and frowned at the dark strands born of his guilt. He was tainting her in more ways than one, wasn't he? The strands darkened more with this revelation, and he growled lightly, and pressed his nose back into her hair, picking up a few pieces of dark red waves to twirl around his fingers idly.

Luce tensed at the action, and he sat up to look at her, gently turning her face towards him with his free hand. She looked at his eyes fearlessly, and seemed to be considering something quite seriously before speaking again.

"I always say too much to you. Is that normal for you?" she asked, finally, looking a little bashful, and a little annoyed.

"Luce," Marcus replied, "Nothing about this is normal. I've spoken more to you since we've met than I have in the last decade." He brought the hair in his fingers to his lips, and she turned red. Marcus smiled. It was all clear to him then, and the dark strands fled from their connection. He wouldn't fulfill his end of the bargain. He was going to live with her for a year, and somehow convince her to join his eternity. She would know the joy of an almost indestructible body, and then she would be able to do all the wrestling and running and jumping she liked. Because Marcus was in love with his Luce.

He _loved _ her.

* * *

So, I had know idea how quickly or slowly this chapter was going to take, but since I decided to take next year off from the academics, I have decidedly more time to devote to distracting pleasantries, yes? And I think I couldn't have come to a better place to end it. I almost had a block, because it's so difficult for me to describe the bonds that Marcus sees, and it's kind of boring, but necessary to the story.

If you want to know the Italian, pop it into Google translate, because that's where I got it from. Which means it likely isn't accurate, so don't quote it, peoples.

P.S. I got a review for chapter seven that got me thinking... I kind of treat Bella Cullen as a joke... She kind of _is_ a joke, though... Ehehehe...

Also. My 'n' on my keyboard is being a bitch, so please let me know if you see any missing in the text.

Peace.


	9. Southern Fried Comfort

Disclaimer: I disclaim.

* * *

I felt like I was going through an interrogation with Marcus by the time half an hour had passed from my phone call with Anne. I'd told him everything he asked (eventually), from my favorite color (green) to the fact that I couldn't pick a favorite plant, I like perennials moreso than annuals, I would prefer to do my own gardening, I pick out bulbs and order online, I can't eat crunchy foods at all because my teeth are so fragile, I have a slight aversion to lace, and refuse to buy any bedding other than 100% silk.

Also that I still practice with the slingshot, I refuse to wear white because sometimes I spill shit on my clothes, I enjoy a bubble bath regularly (and I would kill him if he told Rickie that), sometimes I force local artists to put on impromptu concerts in the ball room (I do pay them), I _have_ a ball room, I can't cook to save my _life_, Rickie cooks very well, I shot a stray dog in the ass with a bee bee gun for pissing on my white oleander bushes. I wish he'd eaten it instead and died from the poison.

I visit the old hag's grave on the anniversary of her death, I once maliciously sabotaged a trampoline of Rickie's because I was jealous, and _he_ ended up breaking his wrist. Sometimes I cry after looking at my face in the mirror, I would _shave my head_ if Rickie didn't like my hair so much, and every time I break a bone I feel so much pain and shame that I wish I were dead.

That was the last bit of personal information he wrangled out of me before I sealed my lips like a casket. He had spent five minutes holding me like glass, switching between playing with _my_ fingers and twirling bits of my hair around _his_ fingers. He may have taken offence to the shaved head thing...

I gasped a bit as he lowered his head to press his lips to the side of my head, and I felt those same stone lips curve into another secret smile at my reaction. My heart was beating in my chest like a stampede at this point, and I wondered if heart attacks happened to women my age. How old was I again?

"Ack! Ma-Marcus, what?" I stammered senselessly. Don't judge me people, he is devastatingly beautiful, and he was focused so single-mindedly on me. ...I've never exactly been the recipient of any positive attention from a man before, and even if this man was a vampire, he was still very, very manly...strapping...masculine. In the best sort of way...

I felt him turning my jaw again with the tips of his fingers, as he seemed to enjoy doing, directing my body to his bidding, and I couldn't even think past the blur of gooish, girlish glee to be angry. Oh, but _what __**was**_ the look on his face, and in his eyes that I saw when I was turned to face him.

I'd never seen him so warm. When was the last time I'd seen his face? How could it have changed so much during our conversation...? His smile was dizzying, and made his features look softer, almost human... But still a hell of a lot prettier than any I'd met.

"Luce, tell me more," he said, still smiling, as though he could play me like a piano. No! That wasn't going to work.

"No," I said, "That isn't going to work." His smile was unaffected. Douche.

"How long has it been since I had painkillers?" I asked to change the subject, which reminded me that I was in pain.

"Lu," I heard Rickie say lowly, as he joined Marcus and I on the ground, "It's only been two hours. I didn't check the prescription, what did the doctor there give you?"

I winced, because I knew exactly where he was going with this, and it didn't matter that he was right.

"It's fine Rickie, I can wait until the next dose," I said, trying to distract him, as I turned to look at him with deceptively innocent eyes.

"Hydrocodone? Vicodin? Tramadol?" I didn't answer. He didn't push me, but continued instead, "We'll call the acupuncturist when we get back. She still doing house calls?"

I nodded, letting Rickie play big boy for now. He could take care of that. I wasn't terribly fond of needles-not scared mind you! But having someone _deliberately_ stick you like a pincushion was something I still wasn't used to. It did help a little though, and I had probably two months before I could use my left arm, less for the fractures in my ribs and leg. You may be wondering why so little time to heal, right? You know what? For all the blame I place on my body and its frailties, I heal very quickly, bone wounds and all.

Especially the little bones. I used to break my fingers regularly, and be okay in three weeks. Of course, had I been to doctors at the time I would likely have straight fingers, and I blame the ever living hell out of that bitch who managed the orphanage. But even now, after it slowed as I aged, I'm sure if I broke a finger again it would heal in four to five weeks. It's a lucky break I suppose, if you'll forgive me that awful pun. You don't have to, you know. I don't deserve it.

I felt Marcus's hand press me flat to him, back to cold, hard, vampire tummy, and the change in temperature that I felt only slightly beforehand felt really good against my ribcage then. My legs hurt too though. As if ripping that out of my brain like that freak we left in Italy, he stretched his right leg out and touched it to my cast, cold even through it, and gently pressed his left arm down over the top of my sling. _Heavenly_, I thought.

Rickie looked at me for a long, hard moment, then looked behind me and up, presumably at Marcus...or at least the wall beside him.

"Don't let 'er take the meds before she should," he said, sounding unafraid of the monster, and perhaps he was, now that it had been identified. The unknown is truly a terrifying thing.

"Is there a problem?" Marcus asked in response, instead of making the promise.

"They're addictive, and Lucy has been clean for over a year now," and then Rickie looked down at me, but I had to look away. I hadn't planned on sharing that little bit of information with Marcus. It was a problem that I preferred stayed in the family, so to speak. But apparently that was something his royal highness was unfamiliar with, and he questioned Rickie again.

"Clean? I am aware that humans bathe regularly to maintain they're hygiene, does the medication compromise this?"

Oh, joy. I just couldn't help the laughter, again. Marcus must not get out much if that's what he thought that meant. I watched Rickie's face darken with embarrassment before he, too, succumbed to chuckles.

"Just watch that she doesn't take more than is prescribed, or more often," he said, and then jerked up to the sound of a horn honking. Oh! Good! That was Anne's beat up old minivan. My hero had come to whisk me away home.

"Lucy! I'm home!" called a sing-songy voice as the door opened on the other side from where she was parked, several feet away, in the sunshine, "And I brought a parasol with me, an- Holy shit! You didn't tell me you you broke bones again! What drugs are you taking." Immediately her tone was cautious and concerned, and the gentle, chatty woman focused on my casts with a laser sharp tunnel vision, ignoring both vampires and jogging over to squat in front of me.

Anne was a tall, slender woman, half Polynesian, with long, dark hair and chocolate brown eyes. She dressed like a hobo, often in her father's old army jacket, and was holding jobs as a librarian while she wasn't working for her landscaping business. She had a degree in graphic design, which I thought was odd for someone doing the work she was doing now.

I watched the little jade turtle pendant she always wore swing in front of my eyes instead of looking up at her face. She was wearing jeans and a tank today, and looking like she'd been working hard, with dirt smudges on her arms, jeans, and even one across her cute little Asian nose. Yes, I'm a bit racist, if you think you aren't, you're lying to yourself. Go look up _Avenue Q_.

"God, Lu," she bit out, "You look like you've been through hell." Damn if she wasn't right, "Covered in dirt and casts, hair's a mess, and what happened to your dress? If I didn't know any better, I'd say Rickie wasn't taking good care of you up there in Europe, you know, I ought to string him up by his- Oh! Hello...?"

Looks like she finally noticed Marcus. And then she was noticing him for a long time. She looked rather nervous, maybe even frightened. Good for her. She has better instincts than some people I could name.

"That's not going in my van."

* * *

Marcus looked at the strangely dressed, eastern looking woman who had spoken. He blinked once, then twice, then turned his gaze toward the woman he held. His free arm he used to pull the large mass of Luce's hair from behind her neck , grazing her skin with his fingers in a rather deliberate manner.

When she shivered lightly, he grinned, pressing his face into the top of her head to hide it from the woman, (Anna?) In front of them.

"Anna," he started.

"Anne," interrupted Luce, "And you can call her her Anne the Great, because you and I owe her for being wonderful and coming to pick us up when you two dumb-asses didn't think further than the plane ride." Luce growled out. Marcus let out air through his nose in a way that could be likened to a snort.

"We had planned to make the journey on foot," he said, a little embarrassed that his plans seemed to be so silly to her.

It was then her turn to snort, "Were you going to carry me the whole way?" She asked

"Of course," Marcus replied. Was that such an odd concept? He supposed she wouldn't already know his capabilities when it came to physical strength, or speed.

"Well you guys can enjoy your little spat," intoned Anna, "In the meantime, I'm gonna get the van cleared out for Rickie and Lu. No Italians allowed."

Luce squirmed a bit, and Marcus relented, giving her the space to shift around and face him.

"You wanna ride on top?" She smirked at him, obviously smug in the face of Anna's outright refusal to transport the vampires. He found it to be endearing, her malicious character. And he could only smile at her in a way that had made her breathless before, intentionally scrambling her thoughts. He could be malicious too. In the several seconds it took for both women to collect themselves, he made the decision that Anna would be humored.

"We will follow behind on foot," he said, looking up at Demetri, who seemed quite incensed at the whole spectacle, eyes dark and hungry. Marcus let out a warning sound deep in his throat, too soft for the humans to catch. The younger male would need to behave himself. If they were going to be in one place for a whole year, they would have to restrain themselves, hunting outside the area they were staying, and not feeding too often, not with the sort of gluttonous binging that was a general diet of the Volturi and it's guard.

Marcus looked down at the precious woman in his arms, moving his body with the most subtle of movements along with hers, taking such great care to be gentle. She was so fragile, more than any other human he'd met (most of which he'd also devoured.) This was going to be so _difficult_...

He watched the Anna walk towards the bulky, blocky, dirty vehicle she'd arrived in, throwing open a sliding door on the side and promptly throwing books, clothing, and plastic bags full of who knew what further back behind the middle section of seats. The boy went to join her, and they spoke in soft tones about his Luce. He felt no guilt for eavesdropping.

"What is she on?" Anna asked.

"I think she's takin' hydrocodone, but I ain't positive," replied Rickie, "An' she hasn't eaten anything in a long time... I ate on the plane while she was sleepin', but she should be starving about now."

"We could stop by Wendy's...?"

Marcus wondered who Wendy was, and why they would need to make such a stop, but could ask no questions of Luce, as he didn't want her to realize he was listening without permission.

"Eh, nah," Rickie answered, "I got food poisoning at a Wendy's th'other day. So no thanks."

"Ick! Don't talk about it!" Anna cried out in a panic, "You know I have that irrational fear of-"

"Vomit," he finished, "An' how could I _not_ know, with how often you complain 'bout it?"

"Not that often!"

"All the _time_!"

"So not true!"

"Is _too_!"

"Is _not_!"

"Is-"

"Shut your pie-holes!" The last bit had come from beneath Marcus's chin. Their argument had gotten rather loud, and Luce leaned back against him in a defiant manner. The two other humans had finished clearing out the seats as they bickered, and looked at Luce contritely.

"She started it," mumbled Rickie, and Anna's response was a swift kick to the shin. Rickie grunted quietly.

"Let's just get _out_ of here," whined Luce. Marcus obliged her, gently shifting his arms around her legs and back and lifting them both off of the ground. He felt all eyes on them as he walked towards the van. He stopped several feet short of the encroaching line of the sun, and looked at Rickie. Rickie didn't take the hint. Marcus stood there holding Luce for several long moments, waiting without a word.

He wasn't going to reveal himself to Anna for what he was, and he wasn't sure how he could get that point across without being overtly obvious. Rickie stared back at him wordlessly. Then Demetri moved to stand beside and behind him, and Rickie's glance followed the movement, distracting him from what Marcus wanted. Several more seconds passed, and Marcus began to feel irritated. It was a feeling he assumed he was going to become extremely familiar with.

"Oh, for the love of-Rick!" Luce called, "Come over here and get me." Smart woman.

* * *

It was ten minutes in the car before I realized it. And suddenly it was all I could think about as the hazy sensations Marcus left me with, well... left me.

"Holy shit I'm hungry," I stated to all in the car. And they laughed. The buggers.

"What would you like Lu," giggled Anne, "I'm game for anything if you're buying." I frowned at her. Taking advantage of my wealth, the little heathen. But I couldn't stay mad for very long, seeing as I take advantage of her on a regular basis. No, not sexually, you piglets.

"How about Subway?" offered Rickie.

"I want drive through," I replied. I moved around a bit in the seat in the back. Rickie sat up front beside Anne, so that I could spread my broken leg across the car as I pleased. But I couldn't get comfy no matter what. I really wanted more medication, but knew I shouldn't ask. Do recovered alcoholics ask for alcohol? No.

Granted, they don't get prescribed alcohol for pain either. Psh. Whatever I suppose.

"Lu?" Rickie called back.

"How about Bojangles?" I said after a moment. Mmmmmm... Biscuits and mashed potatoes... And Bo rounds... And fried chicken. I thought in that moment that I loved southern fried food more than my own life. Thus I said, "If we don't find one soon I may die."

Of course they laughed at me.

"Oh no!" said Anna between giggles, "We wouldn't want that!" And she put her foot down a little on the gas. Good. She drives like an old lady. "I think there's a Bojangles within the next two exits up here."

Rickie sighed loudly, "Thank God! I'm getting really hungry!"

* * *

Marcus and Demetri followed the large, unattractive vehicle swiftly, silently, and in the shade of trees that lined the highway. He was not offended that the rather perceptive woman would not offer he or Demetri transport. Rather, he was thankful that the younger male would not be trapped in such a small space with the scent of three humans

How he wished that he could have gone on this excursion alone, and how he feared that the other had not been sent for his protection, but for a much more sinister purpose.

Did Aro plan on allowing the boy to live for the agreed length of one year..?

Was there any place he could take Luce without being found in quick order by Demetri?

Marcus was jolted from his thoughts by the blinker of Anna's van before it took the ramp off the highway and towards several fast food joints close by. He noticed the one called Wendy's and suddenly understood better the conversation he'd been eavesdropping on earlier. But true to the boy's protestations, they did not pull into that parking lot, but the Bojangles across the way. Marcus did not know what a Bojangles served, but the smell as he approached was absolutely appalling. Grease prevalently.

He stopped underneath the overhanging branches of a few pine trees beside the dumpster, and as Demetri landed beside him, Marcus caught the gaze of his beloved from the backseat of the van.

She squealed. How endearing.

* * *

Sitting in the drive through, waiting for my meal, suddenly I wondered what Marcus was doing, or if he'd been left behind. I hadn't really taken into consideration what it meant for the vampires to follow us.

How fast _were_ they, really?

I looked out the window, as if I hoped to see some sort of expensive, tinted windowed car in a dark shade parked nearby to wait while we got food. I wasn't sure where I'd thought they might have gotten the car, but the thought of following by foot? Sobering.

I squeaked like a rodent when I did see them.

Just under the shade of the trees outside the parking lot they stood, looking like dark gods of a forgotten age, still and vigilant. I met Marcus's burning eyes. They seemed to glow at me from the shadows, and I felt a flutter of fear or it's ilk run up my spine. It was odd. I'd only just recently been locked in his arms, quite literally, and I hadn't felt the anxiety. Like being close to him for extended periods of time had put me under some sort of spell. Scratch that. I was never one to believe in magic.

A drug. A mind numbing drug. And part of me wondered if that's why he was so attractive to me. I'd always _liked_ drugs. He was my personal painkiller, I suppose, though not terribly strong. I still wanted the prescriptions the Italian doc had given me. Just thinking about them made my bones hurt and my throat feel dry, but instead of turning to my purse and trying to sneak one, I held his gaze. It seemed like every time I looked in his eyes they were brighter, redder, and more intense.

Or maybe I was just getting caught deeper into whatever web he was spinning.

His gaze never left mine as I reached for the paper bag someone was passing back subconsciously, nor when the car started moving. The connection broke only when we turned around the corner of the building and began driving back towards the highway.

* * *

Hey people who may or may not still be reading! If you gave up on me, I understand. :] Once again, I can't promise to update regularly, or quickly, but I swear I will not leave this story unfinished.

This chapter may be a little disappointing for some; short, mostly filler, getting to know you, and I even made it kind of conversational by switching perspectives so often. But filler has a purpose too, and I'm not just going to sweep them up in a storybook romance any more than I already have by putting them in a storybook romance, if that makes any sense.

Anyway, If thou art still reading, let me know. It's really encouraging to get reviews, and I do check on that periodically, and it does help me get going on the next bit.

Merci beacoup mes amis. Au revoir!


	10. Home

Disclaimer: I disclaim.

* * *

"I swear to GOD Anne, if you sing that 'Nugget in a Biscuit' song one more time, there will be bloodshed!" I swore as Anne multi-tasked between navigating the long, winding gravel road to my home and annoying the ever-living crap out of me. She'd been either humming, whistling,singing, or _kazooing_ (Really. Who the hell keeps a kazoo in their car?) that ultra-repetitive song since I put mashed potatoes in my chicken biscuit.

It's brilliant. I don't deny it, and at first the song was appropriate, sure.

But not _all the way home!_

Of course both other passengers found my threats terribly amusing, so Rickie joined the singing. Anne imitating a deep voice and Rickie in falsetto. The little shits.

I tried to ignore them and glared out the window at the woods on either side of the road, encroaching slowly into the ditches. I thought I saw a dark blur pass by us to the left, and then I had the sneaking suspicion that the vampires were going to beat us home.

Or perhaps they had heard the noise even outside the car and were hoping for a bridge to jump off of further down the road.

Either way, we would all know in a few minutes.

"My lovely Hershey Bar!" I called out to my beloved, sweet, annoying, chocolate, musclebound baby brother, "If you don't shut your pie-hole, it will see nothing of pies _or_ cakes ever again."

And there again came the laughter at my expense. I'd obviously been too soft on this pair. I unbuckled my safety belt with the only functioning hand and stretched out my sore limbs. I could still vaguely smell the fried food from the scattered and crumpled paper bags in the car, but my stomach was blessedly full. I grabbed my soda from one of the many cup holders in the van and slurped until that annoying end-of-the-line sucking sound filled the car.

"Ew!" exclaimed Rickie, disgusted (as I knew he would be), "You know how much I hate that noise! Fingernails on a chalkboard, man."

Of course I knew, but it made the singing stop as Anne burst into peals of giggles. Which subsequently caused the vehicle to veer towards the ditch.

"Watch the road Anne!" I snarked, and when she jerked back to the middle of the lane, I slammed into the seat a little harder than was comfortable. I hissed in pain and she glanced back at my from the rear view window.

"How long has it been on those meds?" she asked, "Can you take another?"

"I don't know... Ask Rickie."

He had been quiet through all of this, and glanced down at the clock on the car radio. Wordlessly he started digging around at his feet, where I assumed he had thrown the prescription bottles when we started the trip home. I watched patiently as he read labels and measured out the correct amount of pills in his large hand, then passed back both the pills and his unfinished cola. I made sure to suck down to nothing, just because I'm a bitch.

"Damn it! That's so gross Lucy!" he shrieked back at me, his voice cracking, and the ladies in the van enjoyed a good laugh at his expense rather than mine again. But we were all three of us distracted by the view as we made it around the last curve to the front of my home.

The circle driveway was graveled out right up to steps onto a beautifully stained wooden front porch with antique rocking chairs and outdoor fans to discourage insects and move the humid Georgia air sluggishly. The facade of the manor house was two stories of stained wooden siding, with large bay windows and slate shingles on the roof. The front door was massive, wide and surrounded by windows as well. The entire area of my front lawn was shaded by very old, very large oak trees just the perfect distance from the house. Peeking around from the sides of the porch stairs were large azalea bushes, blooming prettily in vivid pinks, purples, and reds. From behind the attached four car garage, I could see the beautiful, decorative lines of metal, framing filtered glass that marked my greenhouse.

But the most exciting thing about the view at that moment was not the grandeur of my home. It was the two monsters casually standing in the shade of my porch, watching us as we watched them.

"How did they..?" Anne started, but I had already worked out my lies.

"They must've parked their rental car in the garage," I said smoothly, "You know, it's no shock that they beat us with how slowly you drive, dumbass."

I glanced covertly at her face to see her reaction, and though still rightfully wary, her suspicions seemed to have abated for the moment. She pulled to a stop at the feet of the stairs and put the car into park, engaging the emergency break. She went to unbuckle her seatbelt, but I stopped her quickly.

"Hey, don't get out," I said, pulling my billfold from my bra where I always kept it, "We have a lot of situating to do for our guests this evening, and I don't want to keep you out. Your boyfriend hates us enough as it is."

Before she could protest, I stuffed a generous wad of bills into one of her many cup holders and opened my car door to get out.

"For the gas," I said, once again interrupting her before she could refuse the money, "Rickie?"

Rickie stepped out quickly, shoving my meds in his pockets and reaching out to pick me up. I used my one good hand to slam the side door shut, wincing at the pain it cause me. Anne rolled down the passenger window to call out one last thing before driving away.

"You be careful honey. I don't trust those freaky Italian nutjobs one iota! Call if you need anything!"

And then she was kicking up tiny bits of gravel as the car went back down the long driveway, leaving Rickie and I alone with two vampires in the light of the setting sun. How romantic.

But if that fairy looking Demetri went after _my_ Rickie, I'd rip his balls _right off of his body._ Should've done Heidi the same when I first laid eyes on her. With her ovaries though. I'm relatively certain she didn't have testicles.

I was distracted from my morbid line of thought by Rickie shifting me in his arms. I looked up at him to see if he was getting uncomfortable, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at Marcus. I decided to _not_ look at Marcus, because I wanted to have a few rational thoughts, and my monster was a mouthwatering distraction on legs. Legs that were very long and lithe. I was very curious as to the muscle tone on said legs. Mmmmmn...

"Rickie," I started to distract myself from my own distraction, "Will you be a dear and make up the beds in the guest rooms for these two boys? I'll be fine if you set me down in that there rocking chair. Oh, but bring me something to drink first please?"

I batted my eyelashes up at him to be cute, and he reluctantly carried me up the porch stairs and set me down very gently in the rocking chair closest to Marcus. Good idea too, because the way Demetri was looking at me was predatory in the wrong sort of way.

Now that I wasn't speaking, and as Rickie cautiously crept past the silent monsters into the house, the air was a little stifling, and I'm not talking about the good Ole Georgian humidity.

We spent a few quiet minutes in the silence though, vampires so still I thought I could paint them over with a coat of crackling paint and put them on the front lawn as decorations (Or make a giant fountain out of them like Robert DeNiro gave Billy Crystal in Analyze This. If you haven't seen that movie, I hereby disown you until you watch it.), but then I thought, I'm not quite _that_ hoity-toity, am I? (About the fountain, not the movie.)

I felt a shy breeze play with my hair and the ragged edge of my formerly favorite sun dress and sighed. I looked up at the treetops and watched them dance, listening to the rustling of leaves as they brushed against one another, moving the small spots of sunlight around on the lawn and gravel. My God it was so beautiful to me, and I almost missed the chance to say goodbye to it in a stone-walled prison cell in another country.

I felt Marcus draw nearer to me, until he was behind my chair. I smelled his sweet scent and the gentle weight of his aura, for lack of a better word, as well as the coolness of his body so close. I still didn't look at him. He still said nothing.

The wind picked up a bit, and I noticed that the sky was getting darker, as the sunset was clouded over with thunderheads. I smiled. My joints and old injuries were aching with barometric pressure, but storms left the surrounding trees and plant life the most beautiful, vivid green, and the dirt a dark, richer color as well.

It was the moment that Rickie came back, and smart kid that he was, he had a lap tray with a shot glass full of my favorite bourbon, and a tall, crystal glass of my favorite chaser... a mixed drink of bourbon, honey, and lemonade, complete with a slice of lemon and sugar in the raw glittering on the rim. My personal chef and bartender. I'd have to find a way to send him to cooking school.

I graciously accepted as he carefully maneuvered the tray between the armrests of my chair. He smiled at me, and it almost reached his eyes. I knew he was nervous about our monster guests. So was I. And it didn't help that going and being home had left us both with that thin, false web of security.

"It's gonna rain?" He asked, quietly.

"Not quite yet."

Rickie leaned over to press his cheek to mine and pushed my hair behind my ears. I used the opportunity to place a loud, messy, wet kiss obnoxiously on his face.

"EW!" he said, jumping away and almost spilling my drinks.

"Now go make the beds for the Italians Cocoa-butter," I grinned at his obvious embarrassment, happy to distract him from his fear, "I would myself, but I'm not fully functioning this evening."

He hopped up from me and skittered back inside. Well, maybe skittered isn't the right word for a teenager of his size. Damn giants.

As soon as he made his exit, I gratefully knocked that shot back without any more preamble. Mmmn. Lovely. The burn of the bourbon making its way down my throat to my gut was familiar (very familiar) and comforting. If you disapprove of me mixing my drugs and alcohol, I'd like to let you know where you can shove your opinion. Up there with that stick that's jammed in your ass. It's my body and my booze, if I wanted to for example, throw either of them in a bonfire, it's my prerogative. But seriously, I would never waste a good bourbon that way. Or a bad bourbon either, for that matter. How wasteful. That was a horrible example. Why do you let me get away with these things?

As a chaser of sorts (for the shot, if you forgot by now), I took a sip of my lemonade cocktail, first licking a bit of the sugar off of the rim. Good. Heavy on the bourbon, just how I liked it. I blew a gust of my newly acquired liquor breath out and closed my eyes in bliss.

Marcus was still behind me; a silent guardian, which I found comforting with the opposing presence of the likewise silent, but definitely less benevolent Demetri. I glanced over at the latter, a bit nervously. I mean, Marcus was one thing. He wore his sincerity like a piece of toilet paper that he didn't realize was trailing from the bottom of his shoe.

But Demetri was a bit harder to pin down He glared out over my front yard, nostrils quivering minutely. I wondered what he was scenting a moment before deciding I probably didn't want to know. Just the thought of the thinks he could have been thinking was enough to make me very nervous. And the nice(it's a relative term) vampire made me nervous enough as it was.

I started to rock my chair a bit and swirl my drink around just to breach the silence without having to actually face Marcus yet. It seemed I still wasn't ready to look back at my monster. I knew very well why that was.

If you're wondering, it's because I didn't want him to become a part of my sanctuary. I didn't want to associate him with the feelings I had in and for the house. If I saw him, and spoke to him there, in my territory...? I might have started thinking of him as a part of it. As _mine._

I didn't want that _at all_. Mostly because there was a part of me, that was growing at an alarming rate that really did want it. Desperately.

That was more frightening to me than anything that had happened to me since I boarded that God awful plane.

I shuddered lightly, glad that I couldn't see him. Gladder yet that he was respecting my decision to ignore him. Rudely, might I add.

I looked back out towards the front lawn. The only sounds I could hear were the wind in the trees, the squeak of my rocker, and the light clinking of ice in my glass. I could almost imagine it was any other evening, free of monsters, nightmares, deals with the devil, and the gloom of my imminent death. And it _was_ coming. This I knew without any doubt.

* * *

Marcus watched the approach of the van that carried Luce as it pulled up in front of the stairs. He and Demetri had run ahead of the humans when he had begun smelling Luce's residual scent in the area, and traced it back to the large house with wood siding and slate roofing. The area was well shaded, and the house obviously saw very little traffic. The only human scents for miles were those of the boy, the chatty woman, and his Luce.

Demetri had wanted to scout the area as soon as the two of them had arrived, but Marcus had forbidden it.

"If we are to be here for any length of time, we must hunt outside this area." he had told his subordinate, who had chafed a little at the order, "We will do so after we have made sure that Luce and the boy have settled in."

It was a little worrisome to Marcus when he thought about it, as the boy picked up Luce and the chatty woman shouted something he didn't bother to listen to and drove away. He looked down at Luce, who would not meet his eyes, and then spared a glance at Demetri. The younger vampire looked rather sullen, and impatient...

Marcus was beginning to think that he would need to request a change of guard for the safety of his charges.

"Rickie," called Luce, distracting Marcus from the heavy turn his thoughts were taking, "Will you be a dear and make up the beds in the guest rooms for these two boys? I'll be fine if you set me down in that there rocking chair. Oh, but bring me something to drink first please?"

Marcus smiled a little as she batted her eyes at the boy in a way that would have been coquettish and sweet, had any other been making the expression. As it was, she looked like she had an eyelash caught in her eye and was attempting to dislodge it. The boy did as she bade him, however, with only a slight sigh and a roll of his dark eyes. He was very careful about seating her, helping to arrange her injured limbs and then sneaking past the two Volturi in a frightened manner.

Luce said nothing, but refused still to make eye contact. Marcus frowned slightly. There bond was still growing, but the strands that originated from her end were obviously confused, hesitant. The scent was a little muddy, the mixture of Marcus and Luce not quite balanced. However, Marcus reasoned with himself, the progress made already was astounding. He had a full year with her to win her affections, and he didn't think he was very far from that goal.

There were clinking and thunking noises coming from inside the house as the boy presumably prepared Luce's drink. Added to that the extra sounds of slicing and crunching, and Marcus had no idea what the boy would return with. Marcus's idea of drinking was a much different affair.

On that note, he glanced again at Demetri, and what he saw was not reassuring.

He stepped up behind Luce laying a hand so gently on the high back of the rocking chair that Luce didn't notice. Either that, or she could notice nothing outside of whatever reverie she was caught in. She looked so peaceful and content that despite his desire for her attention he could not bear to interrupt her happiness. Marcus caught a tiny strand of her hair that was floating in the warm breeze and twined it around his finger. She smiled a bit, and he thought maybe for a moment she would turn to him, but her attention was on the approaching thunderheads. He dropped the piece of her hair that he held, and, as if on cue, the boy returned precariously balancing a tray.

Ah, alcohol. He was not surprised in the least. Had he been human, Marcus thought he would have enjoyed drinking such things with Luce... Though perhaps none that looked so feminine...

"Is it gonna rain?" the boy asked in a soft voice, thick with his American accent.

"Not quite yet," replied the small woman gently, and Marcus could see that they were not speaking of the weather. He looked once more at his current guard, and clenched his jaw at the malice in Demetri's eyes. Marcus was not sure how to control that. He had always left such things to Aro and Caius, who were always quite pleased with the responsibility of ordering others around. Marcus had never had any interest in taking part in such things, even before Didyme had died. It was disconcerting. What if Demetri did not feel that Marcus's orders held the same weight as those of his brothers..?

He would have continued on that line of thought for longer if it had not been completely derailed by the loud smooching noise Luce made against the boy's face. The dark skinned youth protested the treatment, but she ignored his embarrassment.

"Now go make the beds for the Italians Cocoa-butter," She said, grinning and wrinkling her nose at the dark skinned boy, "I would myself," she continued, her smile inverting into a frustrated frown, "but I'm not fully functioning this evening." The boy made his way quickly back inside, making more noises along the way. Squeaking stairs and opening and closing doors loudly.

* * *

"Alice! Jazz!" Alice looked down from her coniferous perch where she'd been zoning out, patiently awaiting her quasi-siblings. She was experiencing another vision of the same, redheaded woman that had caused this whole debacle in the first place.

The human had been sitting on a covered porch in a wooden rocking chair, flanked by two very _not_ human men, Demetri and Marcus. The oddest part of the whole vision, not counting the fact that this woman was still breathing, or the odd, affectionate look on Marcus's face, or the hatred on Demetri's... was the lack of other vampires in the picture... Worse yet, she'd been having visions of them a lot lately; it seemed that they were already across the Atlantic.

Rose and Em appeared from the underbrush just as the vision faded. Rosalie in a quiet manner, polished, graceful, poised, without a single, beautiful blond hair out of place..

Emmett crashing through behind her like a bulldozer.

"Is Nessie okay?" asked Rosalie, the concern an fear palpable in her voice. Jasper was at Alice's side that instant, close, but not touching in that silent intimate way he had.

"Nessie's fine," offered Jasper calmly, subtly influencing Rosalie to the same state, "We wanted to meet up with you two, just in case something went wrong in these visions Alice has been having. So far they've been benign, but Aro may still be angry. Carlisle and the others are getting in contact with some of our friends and comrades from the last time we dealt with the Volturi... just in case." he repeated.

Since the near disaster outside Forks, Washington several years back in which the whole force of the Volturi swept down on them for breaking a law they hadn't actually broken, the Cullen clan had convinced friends and allies to carry cellphones with them... just in case.

It looked like _just in case_ was about to become an urgent sort of phrase.

Everyone looked to Alice as she spoke again, "I saw Demetri and Marcus just now. They weren't doing anything, but I've been seeing them on and off, and they're in Georgia."

Tense again with the discomfort of knowing that they could be in danger, but not why, all four vampires turn northwest as a unit and began to run.

* * *

So, I looked up my story on the fanfiction search, only to realize that there's now another Twilight/Marcus fic under the same exact name...

I might be a little offended. Would it be wrong of me? I chose that title very specifically, after much consideration, referencing things that won't be revealed until almost the end, and now it feels almost cheap. Probably because the other author has over twice the chapters in much less time... (My own fault, really.)

Well, I _am_ rather petty.

On the other hand, I was thrilled with all the reviews I got! I put up that chapter the night before leaving town for the weekend to move my brother into his new house. When I returned, BAM! Reviews! How lovely! So I got all inspired to work in the next chapter. I have a little more written, but I decided to post at a good stopping point to get something up. Still took me forever, but I can't promise speed, only that another one will eventually be posted.

Please review!


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